Forever Yours, Hannah
by ayla darrow
Summary: Hannah has managed to survive this long in the apocalypse with an elderly gentleman and a young boy who calls her mama. What will happen when she meets the man who she credits her survival to? Daryl/OC pairing. Rated M for language and just in case!
1. Chapter 1

"Mama, when can I move?" the little boy complained as he tugged on the sleeve of the woman who sat by his side. It would have taken only a glance at the two to tell that they weren't related. The boy, eight years old, had thick black hair, dark brown skin and dark brown eyes which were wide and filled with innocence. The woman next to him was nearly the opposite in appearance. Her skin was slightly sun kissed from the amount spent in the sun but far lighter than his was and her hair was a fiery red which stood out from the environment like a sore thumb. There was no physical resemblance whatsoever between the two.

"If you want good food, you got to be patient, Pablo," she said, not even looking away from the area in front of them. They were both hungry and she knew that the fact that he had been sitting still for at least two hours was a miracle. She made a mental note to tell him how thankful she was for his pleasant behavior and how glad she was that he was her companion.

Suddenly she saw the big prize they had been waiting for. "Pablo, look straight ahead," she said, looking through the scope that sat atop of the rifle. She gently squeezed the trigger as she made sure that she was going to hit the right spot. His words echoed in her mind as she aimed: _Ya want to get it behind the shoulders_. She pulled the trigger and watched as the deer began running. "Why is it running?" Pablo asked, sounding worried that their new source of food was getting away.

"They don't always die right away," she explained, watching as it returned back into sight. "They usually run in circles for a while until they die," she said, pointing at the deer that was now collapsing on to the ground. She looked at Pablo with a wide grin which he returned. "Come, let's go," she said as she stood up, knowing that they had to hurry if they were going to get the good parts off before the Walkers arrived. That was the downside to hunting. The shot was usually loud enough to attract at least all the Walkers within a quarter of a mile sometimes further if they were in a less dense area.

She scurried over to the deer, making sure that Pablo was at her side and she kneeled down.

"Alright Pablo, remember what I taught you?" she questioned as she handed him a sharp knife. He nodded, handling the weapon carefully. She knew that it was terribly irresponsible to hand such a young child such a dangerous weapon but there was really no choice in this situation. He lived in a world where he was in constant danger. Not teaching him how to handle himself would be a massive betrayal to the boy, even if he wasn't aware of it himself. She put the rifle down on the ground and began to get to work as well.

Their actions were almost automatic by now. Sure, the boy had only skinned rabbits before but it was still fundamentally the same thing. She pulled a large plastic bag out of the backpack she carried with her that she used to store their meat in. The last thing they needed was for everything to be soaked in blood. After they skinned it she put as much meat as she could get into the bag before she put the bag into the backpack.

"There's a lot left, mama," the boy pointed out as she took the knife away from him.

"I know, Pablo. We just don't have much more time," she commented, wiping the blood off of her hands on to her jeans. The boy looked at her before following her example.

"Come on now, let's move back to the camp," she said, taking the boy's hand as they began to run. If they were lucky, the deer would serve as a distraction for the Walkers and hopefully it would please them enough for them to not wandering around, searching for more food.

It didn't take them long to get to the camp and lucky for them, they had no run ins with Walkers. The boy retreated into the tent that they had set up, returning to his normal isolated self. She really couldn't blame him for wanting to be alone. Even though they got along almost perfectly, the boy had lost his parents only a few weeks earlier which was enough to cause any child to pull away. Hannah pulled out the plastic bag with the meat in it, only to discover that it had leaked all over her bag.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered to herself frustrated as she pulled out the rest of the contents of the bag, which included a few small boxes of ammo, a pair of socks and a now blood soaked book.

"You never quit with the cussing, do ya?" Hannah looked up from the mess she had discovered. She smiled when she saw the familiar old gentleman.

"Do you see this mess, Henry? I think it deserves a few fucks and shits thrown its way," she said, causing the man to laugh.

Their group was small, only consisting of her, the boy and the old man. Originally it had consisted of a few families but as time went by they slowly disappeared or died, one by one. Pablo's parents had been the last to die. They had faced a rather large herd on the highway and while Henry had coerced both Hannah and Pablo into lying under the corpses of dead Walkers, Pablo's parents had insisted on trying to take down the Walkers. They were so busy playing hero that they had neglected to think about what would happen to their boy if they died.

Being a hero was stupid, at least in Hannah's eyes.

Henry and Hannah began slowly cooking the meat she had managed to gather in the day. It was important to cook all of it right away even if they weren't going to consume it until later on. The longer it stayed uncooked, the likelier the Walkers were to catch the scent of the blood. At first it hadn't occurred to Hannah at all that raw meat was likelier to attract Walkers but since the number of their appearances began to dwindle after they decided to cook the meat right away, she couldn't really deny that Henry had a point.

She had very little knowledge in regards to staying alive out in the wilderness. She credited her survival mostly to one man. She had met him about a year before the dead began walking and if it hadn't been for him, she probably wouldn't have been able to stay alive. Their meeting was one of chance. She had been picking mushrooms out in the forest, trying to get enough to make a decent meal and he had mistaken her for an animal and hadn't it been for her red hair suddenly coming into view, he probably would have shot her on the spot.

She often found herself wondering what had happened to him. Her father had literally pushed her out the door when she spoke of the dead walking, claiming it to be some sort of disrespect on her half. She had gone to their spot in an attempt to find him, only to be picked up by a group of survivors who said that the mountains weren't safe anymore, that they had to go to Atlanta.

While she could as well have mourned the fact that she never really had the chance to explore what could have happened with the man she had decided on celebrating the fact that meeting him had kept her alive. The hours she spent with him, waiting for prey and learning to shoot, those were the ones that had made her a valuable part of the group. At first she hadn't been much good but as time passed and she spent more time hunting and shooting down the dead, she begun to get the hang of it.

"Mama, I'm hungry."

Hannah turned her head to see Pablo partially out of the tent they slept in. She smiled wearily and motioned him to come to her. Slowly the boy crawled out of the tent and took a place next to her. "Here you go son," Henry said, handing the boy a fairly large slice of the deer that had been cooked through. Pablo took it and devoured it almost instantly. Hannah laughed at how greedily the boy had chowed down the deer. She handed him another piece before she resumed cooking.

"Hannah, I'm afraid we can't stay out in the forest forever. We have to find shelter soon," Henry said; his voice filled with concern. The redhead didn't even bother looking up from the meat that was slowly cooking over the fire that they kept lit most of the time. She knew that he was right. They had been in the forest since the incident with Pablo's parents. In fact, they have pretty much been in the same spot the whole time. She had wanted to give Pablo some form of stability after his parents' death and this was the best she had to offer.

"I know, but where will we go? How long are we going to have to walk before we find some sort of house to reside in?" she finally questioned, looking up from the fire and at the old man.

"Well keep on heading South. Go to Florida if we have to," he said.

"We went to Florida on vacation once," Pablo suddenly said catching the attention of both Hannah and Henry.

"Yeah?" Hannah said with a sympathetic smile. "What did you do in Florida?"

"We went to Disneyland," he replied with a smile. "Me and papa went on all the rides we could find but mama-" he suddenly paused and his eyes began to water up slightly. He cleared his throat and forced another smile. "She was afraid of the rides so she waited for us," he said, his voice shaky by the end. Hannah reached out and put a hand on Pablo's back, gently rubbing up and down.

"I miss them," Pablo said, his voice becoming shakier with each word. He looked at Hannah and the tears began to fall. "Do you think-" he hiccupped slightly. "Do you… Do you think she's mad that I call you- hic- mama?" he asked before breaking out into sobs. Hannah's heart ached at the sight of the boy crying. He often tried to play it off while they were awake but she heard him cry in the nights and she didn't blame him. He had watched as his parents were killed by Walkers and he had watched as Henry had shot them down when they came back as Walkers.

"No I don't think she's mad at you," she said, pulling the boy into her arms and caressing his hair. "She knows that you just miss having her around."

It had been alarming at first when he began to call her mama. She had thought it was some sort of delusional way of coping. Pretending that she was his mother. But as time passed she noticed that he still spoke of his mother as a separate person. Henry had assured her that he just needed someone to become a surrogate mother, of some sorts. Being the only female around, Hannah had of course been the obvious choice. She wasn't replacing his mother, she was just becoming his new one.

"She knows that you need a mama to watch out for you," she whispered, her own eyes filling up with tears. Pablo's arms wrapped around her neck as he buried his face into the valley that was between her shoulder and her neck. Slowly his sobs began to quiet down and his hiccups became less frequent. By the time he finally quit crying, Henry had finished cooking the rest of the meat and he packed it into the duffle bag where most of their food was kept.

"How about we head out tomorrow? Try and find a house to stay at?" Hannah suggested, looking down at Pablo who had finally let go of her. The boy nodded hesitantly. She looked at Henry who smiled in a melancholic manner.

"How about you two get some sleep? You've been out all day trying to get us some food. You must be tired," Henry suggested. Pablo nodded before looking at Hannah. Truth be told, she was more hungry than tired but Henry was right. They had to get some sleep now if they were going to head out tomorrow.

"Wake me up when you're ready to sleep," she said as she climbed into the tent with Pablo.

"You can count on it," Henry promised as the tent was zipped shut. He grabbed the shotgun he had been using to keep himself alive and he took a seat on a stump that conveniently doubled as a chair. He could hear soft whispers coming from the tent where Hannah and Pablo resided and a small smile crawled on to his lips. He hadn't thought much of the girl when he had first seen her. Her dirty face and bloodstained clothes were red flags in his eyes and the fact that she would swear a lot had caused him to dislike her.

But the more time he spent with her, he grew to appreciate her. She showed everyone respect and she did her best to keep the morale up. He had become especially impressed with her after the kid's parents had died in a futile attempt to take down the Walker herd. She had taken to the kid well, allowing him to call her mama and allowing him to follow her wherever she went. He had been sure that she would have been unable to handle someone depending on her like the boy did but she had treated him as if she truly were his mother.

Sighing he began surveying the area, his shotgun ready in hand. He had to at least stay out for a few hours so that the girl could get a few moments of shuteye.

* * *

He had done it again, angered the group by telling them exactly what he thought. Hell, it wasn't his fault that that dumb girl couldn't shut up and it sure as hell wasn't his fault that her whining could attract close by Walkers. So what if her boyfriend didn't make it through? They had all lost someone in this damn apocalypse, she wasn't the only one. They had lost Amy, Dale, Sophia… Hell, most of them more use to the group than whatshisname had been. If Daryl had chosen to be a little bitch every time he lost someone he liked they would have been long dead.

He wasn't going to take their shit, their accusatory gazes. He could have sworn he heard Maggie whispering to Beth that he didn't mean it. He sure as hell meant it. He had walked a deal away from their current camp and now leaned against a tree, sharpening the newly crafted arrows he had created earlier. He heard some twigs snap from behind him and leaves crunching under someone's feet.

"Go away," he said loudly, not exactly in a talkative mood.

"Daryl, that was a lil' harsh."

Just what he needed, mother hen coming over to take care of him. He understood that she lost her baby, but she had been coming on so strong trying to watch over him. He didn't need any pity from her and her certainly didn't need her to tell him whether he was being hard on someone or not. "I don't give a fuck. She's inviting the whole damn neighborhood over for dinner with her whinin'," he retorted, going around the tree so he was facing Carol. She had this look of pity on her face, which usually bothered Daryl but since it was meant for Beth it didn't irritate him as much.

"Daryl, have you ever been in love?"

Her question caught him off guard. He knew exactly what she meant by asking that question. She was trying to indicate that if he thought of being in love, he would understand why Beth was wailing like a trapped cat. Carol's eyes were fixated on him, begging him to understand. "Maybe this one time," he answered dryly. "Gone 'n done in the past. Don't see me whinin' about it loud enough for the Walkers to hear," he added, not wanting to think about the matter anymore.

"Imagine losing that person to Walkers, Daryl. Even if you wouldn't cry about it like Beth does, it would still hurt," Carol said, trying to persuade him into feeling sorry for the girl.

"Piss off, Carol! I don't feel nuthin' for the girl. We all lost someone to the Walkers," he snapped, causing Carol to retreat. He could hear her slowly stepping away, saying something under her breath while she was at it. He was thankful that he couldn't hear what she was saying. He didn't want to hear any of it. He was tired of her acting like he was some sort of soft-hearted hero. He did what everyone else wanted to do when Sophia went missing. The only difference between him and the others was that he was too stubborn to accept that fact that she had just died. Now Carol was going about, acting as if he was a saint or somethin', even going as far as saying that he had honor and that he should be the one leading the group. Trying to make sure that he was doing okay.

"Can take fucking care of myself," he muttered as he resumed sharpening the arrows. "Don't need no mama hen to protect me."

* * *

**A/N:** yes, I'm doing another Daryl/OC. I won't be quitting either story though and I'll try to update daily. This one is obviously going to be a bit different from _A Simple Twist of Fate_ but I hope it won't be of any lesser quality! I apologize for the shortness of the first chapter! The second one is longer, I promise!


	2. Chapter 2

Mornings were Hannah's favorite part of the day. She loved how humid it was in the mornings and how peaceful it usually was. The temperature was just about right too- it wasn't too cold nor was it insanely hot yet. If it weren't for the snoring coming from Henry's tent, the morning would have been perfect.

She used her spoon to scoop out the last spoonful of baked beans out of the can and she let out a happy sound that very much resembled an "mm." She tried her best to go with as little food as she could get away with. Their supplies were limited and before they had managed to get that deer last night, they had been running low on food that didn't taste like cans. She picked up the small bit of deer she had allowed herself and she stuffed it into her mouth, chewing greedily.

Suddenly a very _foul_ stench caused her to stop chewing and almost made her return the food she had consumed for breakfast. She dropped the spoon she had held in her hand and immediately grabbed her rifle. "Gofamn fstinky ass Walfers," she mumbled; her mouth full with the deer. She turned herself in a circle until she spotted the nasty smelling creature that had been behind her. She immediately shot it, landing the bullet square in its forehead. The Walker seemed to stumble back before it fell down to the ground.

She walked over to it and looked at it with disgust. It looked like it had been a young woman, a couple years older than herself. Hannah bent over and gently removed a necklace that had been hanging on the Walker's neck. It was heart shaped and had some sort of engraving on the back. _Forever yours, Ray._ She shrugged, backing away from the Walker so that she was able to swallow the rest of her food.

She didn't look at is as looting. After all, it had been hanging on the body of a Walker. It was just an interesting habit she had developed. It had begun as a silly longing to hang on to something that reminded her of her friends that had passed on but it had developed into a morbid kind of curiosity. The jewelry that the Walkers wore allowed her to form some sort of story for them in her mind. She would guess what kind of life they had lived before they had become the Walking Dead. Sometimes she would pretend that dying was some sort of redemption for him. That they had wanted to escape their lives.

This one had been with her man, _Ray_, for many years. They were childhood sweethearts with history that went all the way back to kindergarten. They had just begun to establish a life together, finally moving in, when the epidemic hit them. They had tried to survive on their own but one day he had come home with a bite. She had desperately tried to nurse him back to health until eventually he passed away. Being heartbroken by the loss of her one true love she had stayed by his side until he came back. She had embraced him and told him how much she missed him. She had allowed him to take her because life without him wouldn't mean a thing.

Hannah put the necklace into a side pocket on her backpack, one which was filled with necklaces, rings and watches of all sorts. She sighed, realizing that the stories in her head were probably not true. But she was a romantic and she wanted to believe that people really did love each other enough to be unable to survive without each other.

"What was that?"

She had been so preoccupied with the necklace that she had failed to notice that both Pablo and Henry were out of their tents. She looked at them and smiled softly. "Walker decided to pay us a visit. She's over there," she said, pointing towards the Walker. Pablo stood on his toes to get a peek but he quickly turned his head away, regretting the curiosity. He walked on over to the food bag and he pulled up a can of apricots. Hannah watched as he struggled with the can for a while, trying to pull off the lid. Almost as soon as she got read to help him, he managed to open it on his own.

"Since you're both up, I'll began packing the tents," she announced, receiving a nod of acknowledgment from Pablo.

"Give me a minute to breakfast and I'll get around to packing my own," Henry said, protesting the idea that she would pack up his things. Hannah shrugged, accepting the old man's protest. Even if she wanted to spare him the work she knew that it would be futile. He was incredibly stubborn and going up against him would only vex her.

Packing together their camp didn't take long. They had set up and taken down the tents so many times that it was almost an automated process. They kept their bags packed at all times to prevent leaving something behind if they had to leave in a hurry and this greatly reduced the time they had to spend packing. She looked at the camp, trying to make sure that nothing was being forgotten. On her back she had her backpack which had the tent fastened to it and she had the duffle bag with the food over that bag. Pablo had his own bag and he was armed with a knife in case he somehow had to face a Walker. Henry had his small backpack on his bag with the tent attached to it.

"Alright, let's go," she said, taking Pablo's hand in her left one while she held the rifle with the right. "Henry, which way do you suggest we go?" she asked, looking to the old man for advice. She had taken control of the situation since Pablo's parents had passed on but she always looked to Henry for help. The old man didn't seem to protest being second in command but Hannah could tell at times that he wanted to have more power when it came to decisions. It was for the better too, he had traveled more in Georgia than she had and he seemed to know how to navigate the state far better than she did.

With old age came wisdom, her mother had always told her.

"I think we should keep west. As long as we don't go back up north, we should be fine for now," Henry replied hoarsely. He honestly didn't know where they should look for shelter but west was as good a place as any to start.

They began walking through the forest, trying their best to avoid the Walkers they would see in the distance. Obviously there was no way to avoid the Walkers at all times and that usually forced them to fire their guns (since they lacked silent weapons of any sorts) but they managed to evade a few Walkers by going quietly and staying out of their sight.

They had to stop frequently so that Henry could catch his breath. He was well into his seventies and he had apparently had a couple of knee surgeries before the apocalypse. Hannah suspected that he was in much more pain than he let on; she often caught him wincing quite a few times. The old man was obviously trying his best to not slow them down and for that, Hannah was thankful.

"Mama, look!"

The urgency in Pablo's voice caused Hannah to turn on her attack mode. She let go of his hand and pulled up the rifle, aiming it in the direction where he had pointed. But instead of seeing a Walker or some other kind of threat, she saw a well and the further she tried to look, the fewer the trees seemed to be. She lowered her hands and returned her left hand into Pablo's. She looked at both Pablo and Henry, giving each of them a hopeful smile. They had only been on their feet for maybe five, six hours. She hadn't expected them to find something in such a short amount of time.

On the inside, she laughed at that thought. Since when had six hours become a short amount of time? She could easily recall the time when an hour felt like forever.

They picked up the pace and in no time they had reached the well. The sight that awaited them at the well as both magnificent and terrifying at the same time. There was a small town that looked like it was relatively intact, which meant that they would be able to stay there as long as it didn't get overrun with Walkers. The terrifying part was the fact that there were plenty of Walkers in sight, roaming the streets of the town. Hannah looked at Henry, her brows furrowed and her expression quizzical.

"Let's take what belongs to us from those creatures," he said with a growl, causing Pablo to perk up with excitement. Hannah put down the load that she had been carrying on her back and she pulled the ammo that had been sitting in the bottom of her bag. She waited for Henry to do the same.

"Pablo, stay close to me, alright?" she asked, looking at the boy with a pleading expression. He nodded. "Yes, mama," he said, grabbing on to the bottom of her shirt. Henry nodded to her and they headed towards the town, leaving their things behind at the well. The last thing they needed was cargo slowing them down.

* * *

Saying that the group was tired as a vast understatement. They were not only physically worn out but also emotionally. Between trying to defend Hershel's farm and trying to get out of the ordeal alive, they had lost far more people than they should have. After Daryl's outburst Beth had toned down the sobbing, trying to keep it more to herself in hopes of not riling him up again.

Everyone was sort of just in their own corner, mourning or thinking about what had gone down just a few days ago. Rick had thought it was a good idea to let everyone cool down a little bit before getting on the move again. It wasn't fair to ask them to get up right after losing so much. Especially Hershel and his family. They had lost the farm which had meant a lot to him. Rick had been tempted to feel bad about what happened to Hershel's farm but then he had been reminded that it hadn't been their fault. The Walkers would have eventually found it either way.

"Hey Carl, come back here," he said loudly to his son, who was standing a little further away than the rest of them. The boy turned around and scurried back towards his father.

"Dad, do you hear that?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement. Rick furrowed his brows and tried to listen for something out of the usual but all he could hear was the chatter of the group and the sounds of somebody stepping on twigs.

"Hear what?" he asked, concerned that there was some sort of danger just around the corner. Carl took his hand and lead him to where he had been standing. That's when Rick heard it.

The sound was far away but it was an unmistakable sound. Gunshots and a lot of them. His first instinct was to think of Andrea but the idea was quickly dismissed when he realized that there were at least two different guns firing away. He looked at Carl. "Have they been going on for long?" he asked. Carl shook his head. "They only started a couple of minutes ago."

This was it. They had had a few days to cool off and collect themselves. Of course, some of them were still angry at him for not telling them that they were all infected but he had made it clear that if they didn't leave, they would have to listen to him. "Daryl," he called out, catching the attention of the man he now considered to be second in command. Daryl threw down the piece of wood he had been entertaining himself with by whittling. He sauntered on over to Rick.

"Whatcha want?"

"Listen… Do you hear that?"

Daryl listened carefully. It didn't take him long to pick up on the sound of gunshots in the distance. He looked at Rick, wondering whether it would be a good idea to travel in that direction. After all, the gunshots could be coming from that crazy group that that kid Randall had been running with.

"Sound like a bunch o' idiots," Daryl finally commented.

"Maybe we should try and… find whoever shooting there. There might be shelter there," Rick said, obviously deep in thought. Daryl shrugged.

"Don't know. 'Em Walkers will be fightin' o'er who gets there first," Daryl commented. "Might be a good idea though. Can't stay out here forever."

"I think we need to gather everyone up and go then. Don't know how long we'll be able to hear the gunshosts," Rick said, heading towards the rest of the camp. Daryl shrugged, not minding having something to do again. It was better than sitting around, waiting for something to happen.

* * *

"God damn, this town really had its fair share of Walkers," Hannah commented as they picked up the items they had left at the well. They must have taken down at least thirty Walkers but luckily only suffered a couple of close calls. Henry chuckled heartily, only to have his chuckles to turn into long and deep coughs. Hannah and Pablo stopped, waiting for Henry to recover from the fit.

"Don't you two be pitying me," he said, walking as fast as he could, quickly passing the two of them. Hannah and Pablo followed him as they went up to the town. "And don't think there won't be more Walkers. We made quite a ruckus with all that gun firing," he reminded them. Hannah knew he was right, they were going to have to face a lot of Walkers, at least in the next few days. She reminded herself that once they had settled in, they had to remember to look for some weapons in the buildings of the house, preferably ones that weren't as loud as guns.

"Pablo, which house do you want to stay in?" she asked as soon as they entered the town. She had promised him earlier that he would have the freedom to choose where they would be spending the night and she had told him to look for a nice looking house while they were taking down the Walkers. She didn't care where they slept, as long as it had a bed big enough for the two of them.

The boy let go of her hand and walked towards a single story house that had a rocking chair on the porch and a mailbox in front of it. He had been eyeing it from the moment they had entered the town. It reminded him of the house he used live in with his parents. "I like this one," he said, looking back at Hannah. She smiled brightly and headed over to the boy's side. They walked side by side, Henry following them, towards the house.

Turning the doorknob, Hannah was relieved to find that it was unlocked. She opened the door and Pablo immediately ran in and threw down his bag. "Be careful!" Hannah called out as he ran into one of the rooms. They had no idea whether there were Walkers in the houses but she suspected that if there had been, they would have come out in order to join in on the fun that had gone down earlier.

"Mama! Come look at this!" he called out from one of the rooms. Setting her things down, Hannah made her way into the room he had called from, only to find him standing on a huge bed. "A real bed!" she said loudly, jumping on to the bed and laying down on it. It was beyond nice being able to experience the luxury of a real bed. The tent had been all they hand under them for the last few weeks and frankly it was beginning to affect Hannah's back.

"Looks like you picked us a nice home, Pablo," she said, receiving a small smile from the boy. She liked the sound of that, _home._ She hadn't had on in what felt like forever. When you were out camping, nothing really felt like home. There was no safety in sleeping in a tent and constantly looking into the forest for enemies. Even though this home wasn't exactly safe, it was better than what they had been dealing with the past few months.

While Pablo and Hannah were celebrating the fact that they had a bed, Henry took it upon himself to look in the cupboards. He was more than pleased when he discovered that the previous inhabitants had stocked up on cans that they didn't seem to have a chance to consume. Whether there was any good stuff left in the town grocery, they at least had enough canned food to keep them going until they caught more animals. Perhaps this time they could bring their carcasses back some and get more meat off of them.

He picked up his shotgun from where he had left it and he slowly made his way out of the house. He wasn't going to interrupt Hannah and the boy in their moment of bliss but he sure as hell wasn't going to stay in the house and wait for the Walkers to come a knocking at their door. He sat down in the rocking chair and let out a sigh of relief as he was finally able to rest his old feet. They had been killing him for quite a while now although he tried his best to toughen it out. Hannah had given him some painkillers she had found in one of the cars they had searched through while on the highway. They had made things easier, without a doubt, but when the effects would wear of the pain would be greater than before.

He was too old to be traveling around Georgia. He knew he had told Hannah that they would go to Florida if they had to but he knew that he would never have made it all the way down there. He would have had to stop eventually for good. His knees weren't made for traveling the country and if the world hadn't gone to hell he would have been on his way to have yet another surgery. He closed his, allowing the exhaustion to take over.

It wasn't until roughly two hours later that he was forced to wake up when the front door of the house slammed. He jumped slightly in his chair and looking to the front door quickly, only to see Hannah and Pablo, both giggling like mischievous little children. He understood right away that they had been trying to wake him up. "You little rascal!" he said, jokingly, as he stood up and walked towards Pablo. The boy giggled as he was tickled by the old man.

When he was through with playing around, Henry stood up straight and looked at Hannah with a quizzical expression, wondering what she wanted with him.

"We're going to explore the town. See if we can find a house with some toys for Pablo. Try and find a way to secure the town a little," she said, putting a hand on the man's shoulders. "You should go in and have a rest. The best is very comfortable," she said with a wink, knowing that the man was probably exhausted to the bone.

Henry opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it. She and the boy could handle themselves and he knew it. They wouldn't have survived this long if they weren't strong enough to keep alive. The boy hadn't yet had a real chance to defend himself but he listened well and he was careful. The redhead was a survivor, she was a good shot and she seemed to keep a level head when they needed one the most. "Alright, you two stay safe out there," he said, opening up the front door. "And don't you let go of that knife, son. You never know when you're going to need it," he warned Pablo before disappearing into the house.

Pablo grabbed Hannah's hand with his free one and they began exploring the houses, one by one. Most of the houses were obviously abandoned at last minute. Some of them even had food on the stove that had been left in a hurry, making Hannah wonder whether this house had had some sort of sudden panic. Empty houses, all left in a hurry, that wasn't exactly normal for a small town. At least she didn't figure, although she had no way of knowing.

Her family had lived in a rather secluded cabin, ten minutes away from the town of the area. She had been homeschooled which meant that she had never really had much of a chance to learn how things worked in a town, at least not on a daily basis. It hadn't been until the apocalypse began that she met most of the inhabitants of the town, all of which were now long gone. Henry had lived in a couple towns over and Pablo and his parents had joined in when they were fairly close to Atlanta. The sense of community that had developed in the group had made Hannah wish that she had grown up in a town. Everyone seemed to work together to make things work out and having no experience of living in a town herself, that's how she assumed things worked.

"Mama! I found some toys!"

She climbed down the stairs of the creaky house that was at the edge of the town. "Pablo, where you are?" she questioned, not sure where to find him. She had only surveyed each room quickly, not taking in their contents. If they were Walker free, she moved on to the next house. Suddenly Pablo's head popped out from a door and his hand extended, waving her over. She walked over to the door to see a child's room. For a moment her heart ached when she saw hand drawn pictures hanging on the walls, obviously belonging to the child that had inhabited the room previously.

"Grab any toys you want," she said, picking up a backpack that was resting on the neatly made bed. She handed it to Pablo, who promptly filled the bag with toys. There was an abundance of toys to choose from. Legos, actions figures, toy cares…. You name it, this kid had had it. As Pablo filled the bag with toys, Hannah examined the bookcase that had been filled with all sorts of books, mainly fairytales.

"Pablo, do you like fairytales?" she asked, pulling out a compilation book containing H.C. Anderson's fairytales. She remembered reading those when she was younger, being heartbroken when she read the little mermaid. The Danish writer really knew how to create fairytales that could tug at someone's heart. The boy looked at her and shrugged. "I guess so. Papa would sometimes read them to me," he said, closing the bag that was now filled with Legos and toy cars. He stood up and moved so that he was next to Hannah.

"Then let's take one of these," she said, handing Pablo the collection of Andersen's fairytales.

"I'm hungry," the boy said as soon as they had exited the house. Hannah looked at him and smiled, ruffling his head with her hand.

"How about you go back to the house, put your toys away and wake up Henry. I'm sure he's starving too," she suggested.

"What about you, mama?"

"I'm not hungry. Anyways, I want to do some more looking around," she said. The boy looked at her for a while, almost as if he was trying to decipher what she really meant. After a while he seemed to accept her words as truth. He held up his knife, as a silent promise that he would be careful on his way back. Hannah smiled and gave him a thumbs up. She watched as he ran up the street, turning left at the end. The house was close enough that she didn't worry about him anymore. After all, they had just gone through the whole town and rid it of the remaining Walkers.

Hannah stood a little longer, listening for the door to slam shut. When she finally heard it she went straight to the first Walker body she could see. She searched it for some sort of jewelry, only to find nothing. She sighed, wondering what she was supposed to do with all these bodies. They would just stink up the streets of this new found haven and there was little use for Walkers bodies. The only thing they were good for was to mask the scent of living to other Walkers.

Then she had an idea. If having a permanently-dead Walker on top of you prevented other Walkers from noticing you, wouldn't a bunch of dead Walkers help keep other Walkers at bay? She was sure that they wouldn't completely eliminate the threat of the Walkers wandering into the town but it wouldn't hurt to try to pile them up and try to create a wall of some sort at the streets of the town which were exposed to the outside.

Deciding not to waste any more time, Hannah began dragging the first Walker to the end of the street. She tried her best to do it quickly, but dragging around the bodies of Walkers was a lot more work that she had thought it had been. After a few hours of work she had about two layers of Walkers at every street in the town except for one. It was a disgusting job to take care of but it was worth a try if it meant that it might save their lives. She looked down at herself and cringed at the sight of some sort of dirty goo on her that must have rubbed off from the Walkers.

She went into the house next to theirs and changed into a pair of jeans and shirt that had belonged to someone twice her size. She looked at her old clothes and sighed. It was way overdue that her clothes would get chucked. She had been hanging on to them for a long time, not daring to throw them away when they were covered in animal blood. But she drew the line at Walker goo.

She picked up the rifle she had set on the bed and decided that it was time for her to go _home_ to Henry and Pablo. Tonight, they were going to have a _real_ dinner by a real table, sitting on _real_ chairs and then they were going to sleep in a _real_ bed.

Things were finally looking up.

* * *

**A/n:** I know, I'm stalling a bit with them meeting the group. I guess I just want to carve out their charactesr a little more. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a two day trip. It could have been shorter if it weren't for some people having to stop and rest every now and then. Heck, if he didn't have to help the group out, Daryl would have been at that town the same day they left. There had been no way for them to know that there was a town out there, at least not without a map, but he had suspected that there was something there that somebody was willing to fight for and that sure as hell wasn't going to be some sort of campsite.

Now that the town was in sight, the whole group morale was beginning to pick up. There weren't anyone whining or moaning about having to walk. It was a heavenly sound, the sound of silence. Daryl and Rick were at the front, T-Dog right behind them. The rest were scattered behind them, some further behind than the others. As they neared the town, they realized that something wasn't right with it. The fact that it seemed abandoned wasn't the problem, no, that was what they had expected. But there was something blocking the street that led into the towns.

"What the hell…"

Daryl looked at Rick momentarily before going a little bit ahead of them. The closer he got, the worse it smelled and the clearer it became to him. Someone had created a wall out of Walkers and the wall wasn't small either, it reached up to Daryl's shoulders and seemed to be double. He looked back at the group, which had stopped a few feet behind him. Some of them covered their mouths in disgust while others just backed away. Daryl walked away from the wall and took his newly acquired position next to Rick.

"You think we should just take the wall down?" Lori questioned from behind Rick.

"Ya'll can do it. I ain't gonna drag around Walkers if I don't gotta," Daryl replied, shooting Lori a sharp look. He knew that she wasn't going to volunteer to take the wall down and neither would the rest of the group. It would be up to him, Rick and maybe even Glenn and T-Dog to take down the wall but most of them never wanted to do the dirty work. Daryl was tired of doing the work that no one else wanted to do. If there was no urgent need for someone to do the deed, he planned on leaving it alone.

"Let's walk around and see if they blocked all the entrances," Rick suggested.

"Fine by me," Daryl said as he began walking around the houses, glancing into the streets when he could. Whoever had put up those walls had wanted privacy, that was for sure. He couldn't make up his mind whether it was done in an attempt to keep the Walkers out or to keep other people out. But they had been desperate enough to stack up those dead Walkers and as far as Daryl was concerned, someone had to be real desperate to be willing to drag and stack up those nasty fuckers.

Everyone seemed to let out sighs of relief when they found a clear road. Daryl walked ahead as he heard them begin to chatter about how they had found a place to stay. How dumb were they to think that this place was just theirs to take? There was not guarantee that whoever had made this their home would want to let them in and if they wanted to keep their conscience clean, they were going to have to go somewhere else if the inhabitants didn't take well to them. Not that Daryl minded- he could stay anywhere just fine. He didn't need no bed to sleep on to be happy. As long as he managed to stay alive he was as happy as a pig in mud.

"Stay alert and keep your weapons at hand," Rick commanded as the rest of the group entered the town.

Everyone that had a weapon held them in a way that was convenient and meant that if they had to, they would be able to react quickly. They split up into smaller groups, each group surveying a street of their own, checking for the presence of Walkers and people. But there was no sign whatsoever of any type of life. The streets were clean, the only indication that there had been anything going down was the brown goo that scraped the streets which without a doubt came from the Walkers being dragged around the streets.

"Everything is clear," Rick announced as the group gathered again in what they considered to be the center of the town.

"We've been blessed." Daryl could hear Carol say to someone from behind him. He was irritated that they didn't realize that this place wasn't empty. They weren't the only ones who wanted to live there and someone had beaten them to it.

"Maybe we should split up into houses. Everyone has their own little space," Lori suggested.

"Now wait a god damn minute," Daryl said, not able to take this any longer. "Ya'll seriously don't think that this place 's empty? I know you ain't that dumb," he said loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the group.

"We checked the area and it's clear," Rick said in his defense but he knew that Daryl had a point.

"Didn't check in the houses. Hell, maybe they're all aimin' their guns at all o' us right now," Daryl suggested causing the group to look around uncomfortably, trying to see into the windows but with no avail. "I know ya'll wanna believe this is what we been waitin' for but don't forget: someone else was here first."

Suddenly they heard a shot nearby which caused the whole group to tighten and the people who had weapons to pull them out and search for the source of the shot.

* * *

While Henry was sitting in the front seat of the truck Pablo was lounging in the bed of the pickup, watching with curiosity as Hannah pulled up another Walker on to the bed. The day before they had spent near an hour collecting the fuel from the cars they could find in the town and pumping it into the pickup. Having a vehicle was one of the luxuries that they had missed for the past few weeks. It made traveling so much easier and when they would go hunting again, it would allow them to bring everything with them back, instead of only bits and pieces.

"Are you sure you want to stay in the bed?" Hannah asked as she closed up the bed of the pickup. "You can always go sit in front with Henry," she offered. Pablo shook his head with a stubborn expression on his face. "Alright then sweetheart," she said, patting him on the head. She had seen how he grimaced whenever he inhaled through his nose and she would have figured that he would have taken the first chance he got to change his decision of sitting in the bed but his refusal was a sign of either extreme stubbornness or him knowing that this was what life was going to be from now on.

"That's it for today Henry," she said, slamming her hand down on the top of the pickup. The old man didn't waste any time, instead he powered up the pickup and turned the pickup around and sped down the now empty road. While Pablo was sitting in the corner of the bed, Hannah was standing, holding tight on to a piece of rope that was wedged somewhere in the bed of the pickup track and in her other hand she had her rifle.

Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, preventing the hair from blowing in her face as the wind blew all around her. She had put on again her old clothes, since she had gone out to get more Walkers. She wanted to finish up the walls as soon as possible, so that they could feel a bit safer in the town. As they approached the town the car slowed down considerably.

"Henry, what are you-"

She didn't have to ask further because she saw what had caused him to slow the car down. There was a group of people standing in the middle of the town and they had their guns aimed in their direction. She looked down at Pablo and signaled him to stay down. If they were to shoot at them, she didn't want Pablo to fall victim to those people. Since they had a little boy with them, she assumed that they would at least try and take care of Pablo when they would find him in the bed of the truck.

Hannah let go of the rope and reloaded her rifle quickly before aiming it at the group. By now Henry had lowered the sped so much that the pickup was barely crawling down the street. He stopped right in front of the place they now called home. "Pablo, listen to me," she said as she walked out of the bed of the pickup, Pablo crawling over the Walkers to get to the end of the bed. "You stay in this bed until I say it's safe. We don't know if these people are friendly or if they're going to cause trouble. I don't want you to get hurt. Understand?" she said and the boy nodded.

She walked around the truck, catching Henry as he was about to exit the truck. "Don't back down," he said with a serious expression on his face and Hannah nodded. This was _their_ home and they weren't going to leave for another group. At least not without a fight. She still held up her rifle as she took a few steps closer to the group. She tried to get a head count on them but she wasn't sure whether there were more. She managed to count nine heads.

"Were you the ones who fired that shot?" a man who stood closer to Hannah than the rest of the group. It was obvious by the way he stood and bore himself that he was the leader. Whether it had been a group decision or his own, Hannah couldn't tell but she already knew that she didn't really like this man. It might be the gun that was pointed at her that made her dislike him or it could also have been the way he looked at her like people looked at Walkers.

"Yeah, we were taking down Walkers," she answered sharply. She watched as he suddenly changed the direction of his gun and as his gaze travelled behind her. She turned her head to see Pablo's head peaking up from the bed of the pickup. "Pablo, honey, I told you to stay out of sight," she shouted, hoping that the boy would take her warning and make his head disappear. She now had her rifle aimed directly at the leader instead of in the general direction of the group.

"You best pray your finger don't slip while you're pointing in that direction," she said aggressively. "He's just a little boy. He won't cause any trouble. We're the ones you should be aiming at."

Rick moved his aim from the truck to the young woman standing in front of him. He hadn't seen that it was a child. All he had seen was a black lump of hair and there was no such thing as being too careful, right? The woman standing in front of him had on clothes that were absolutely disgusting to look at. They weren't just dirty like some of their clothes had been at times, they were absolutely filthy. There were blood stains all over her pants and shirt, and layering over the blood stains were the same dark brown stains that adorned the streets of the town.

He looked at the old man and realized that his clothes were just dirty. They had dirt and grass stains on them but there was no blood or brown goo stains. So she was the active one in the group. An old man, a young boy and a woman who wasn't much older than Maggie.

"Good, now that your attention is on me," Hannah began. "How about you tell me what you want to do. How do you propose we resolve this situation?" she asked, her tone indicating that she was willing to fight if it was necessary. Truthfully, she didn't want anything to go down. Fighting Walkers was one thing, but Hannah certainly didn't want to fight human beings. She figured that somewhere out there were people who fought each other, either for supplies or shelter. It seemed like such a pointless thing to do. Weren't they trying to survive this epidemic?

How was the human race supposed to survive if all they ever did was kill each other?

"How about you put down that gun of yours?" the man suggested, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Put down my gun and have-" she tried to count everyone who had weapons but she soon quit. "At least half of you aiming yours at me? Do you take me for some sort of idiot?" she questioned. She watched as some of the member of the group lowered their guns leaving only two who had their weapons up and one of them not even being a gun. "Much better," she said, lowering her own. She watched as the leader lowered his gun and her eyes followed as he walked over to her, his hand still tightly gripping the gun, ready to pull it up and shoot at any given time.

"The name's Rick," he said with a nod. Hannah returned the nod but didn't bother to give her name just yet. "Pablo, it's safe to come out," she said and listened as she heard him jump off the truck and she waited until his footsteps stopped right next to her.

"Alright, so now that you're done threatening my family," she said dryly. "What do you want?"

If they just wanted shelter, she could live with that. There were more than enough houses for all of them to be able to live in and if they were nice enough people, perhaps they could establish a community similar to the one her, Henry and Pablo came from. One where people worked in harmony and managed to become a proficient group.

"We just need some shelter," he said, putting it as plainly as possible. "And food, but shelter is our number one priority right now." Hannah looked at Henry, who seemed relieved at how the situation had developed. She turned to Rick with a smile. "As long as you people don't go aiming your guns at us again, we'd be more than happy to share this town with you," she said, receiving a relieved smile from Rick.

"How many of you are there?" Rick asked as some members of his group began approaching her.

"It's just the three of us," she answered, gesturing towards Henry and Pablo. "We were part of a bigger group a few weeks ago but there have been bigger herds coming through, leaving just the three of us left," she explained, although she was sure that they could have guessed it on their own. "How about your group?"

"It's just… the nine of us left," Rick said ruefully.

"Well then, welcome to Nightingale," Hannah said, using the name that Pablo had suggested for the town. "This is our home," she said, pointing at the house she could now call home. "Any other house is yours to take. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to finish up adding to the walls," she said, heading towards the pickup. She looked at Henry and nodded, indicating that she could handle things from there on. As she sat in the front seat of the pickup truck, Pablo took his place in the passenger.

It took a while for the group to move out of her way but as soon as they had, Hannah drove to the wall that currently had the fewest Walkers stacked up.

* * *

Everyone seemed to be so eager to find their own houses that they didn't stop to ask the old man any questions. Daryl didn't blame them, not really. They were tired and hungry. Most of them hadn't been able to sleep properly since they left the farm and they were anxious to settle in. But Daryl had so many questions that it felt like his head was about to explode. The most important one being:_ what was her name?_

"Daryl, you coming?"

"Leave me alone," he grunted, not wanting Carol to watch out for him. Much to his pleasure, she seemed to get the message and not another word was heard from her. He looked up to see the old man sitting on the rocking chair. Their eyes met and they just stared for a while. Daryl reckoned that the man was staring because of what he looked like. Anyone could tell that Daryl was a redneck. He didn't give a damn; they were welcome to think of him what they wanted. Not like he cared.

He sauntered to the old man, taking care to not look away unless the old man would. It felt like they were in some sort of competition: whoever looked away first was the loser. When he got up on the porch he leaned up against the column that was next to the stairs. He watched as the old man put down the shotgun that had been resting in his lap for a while now. Was the old man trying to assure him that he wasn't going to get hurt? The thought made Daryl smile on the inside.

"What do you want, son?" Henry asked, doubtful that the man would initiate the conversation. There was something about the way he had taken his sweet time in approaching him that made Henry realize that this man meant business. He wasn't going to ask for supplies or recommendations for what house would be the nicest. There was something else on this man's mind.

"I ain't your son."

Those first words that he spoke to Henry revealed a lot more about Daryl than anyone would have guessed. Right away Henry picked up on the fact that this man was the type who didn't rely on anyone else to take care of him. It was even a wonder that he had been tagging along in the group. He seemed like the kind of man who would prefer to be on his own with his thoughts, not having to watch out for anyone.

"What's the girl's name?"

There was no beating around the bush. If he showed more interest than he needed to, the old man might thing that they were going to be friends. The last thing that Daryl needed was yet another person thinking that they were best friends. Having Carol all up in his business was enough work to deal with without constantly shunning her. He knew that she meant well and that she was trying to let him know that she was thankful, but it wasn't the kind of interaction that Daryl enjoyed.

"You're mistaken, she isn't a girl," Henry corrected, rocking the chair slowly back and forth. "She's a woman. Know it's hard to tell by looking at her, with those childish eyes and all." The old man grinned when he noticed that his babbling was getting on the young man's nerves. "Her name's Hannah," he finally answered. "Don't know her last name. There never was any need to share them. Last names don't really matter anymore," he said with a shrug. He decided that he was going to try and remember to ask her about her last name. Talking about it made him curious.

"It's Weems," Daryl said as he left the porch and headed straight for the house next to it, the one that was closer to the entrance of the town. He slammed the door loudly behind himself and the first thing he did when he got in was kick a hole into the wooden wall. He let out a sound that could have been easily mistaken for a whimper.

"_Come on lil' brother, stop wastin' our time."_

"_Shut up Merle, I ain't wastin' anybody's time."_

"_What d'ya call this then?"_

_Daryl kicked the door of the cabin that he had seen far too often. He wasn't sure how she'd react to him kicking down her door but he sure as hell wasn't going to just turn around and walk away. He ignored the remarks that Merle was shooting his away from behind. As soon as the door finally broke up Daryl walked it, flicking on the light switch that was sitting by the foor._

"_Hannah!" he called out, waiting only a moment for an answer._

_It was then he heard the moaning. "The fuck," he said, pulling up the shotgun and aiming it at the source of the moans. He stepped back a few steps in shock. There were two of them walking dead things. One that didn't look familiar at all but he could tell that it was a man, probably in his late forties. But it was the second one that had caused him to back up._

"_This the pretty lil' redhead ya was talkin' about baby brother?" Merle said before laughing. "Didn't know ya had a thing for dead girls." His laughter was like the bark of a dog in Daryl's ears. Daryl stood there, staring at the scene in disbelief. Her face was chewed off beyond recognition but the hair was unmistakable. She had no sisters and he had never heard of no mother._

"_You bastard," Daryl suddenly said, raising the shotgun and pulling the trigger, shooting the former-man straight into the chest. He watched as the man seemed to cock his head to the side and then come closer. Daryl shot the female straight in the head, killing her immediately. He walked over to the other one and hit it in the head with the butt of the shotgun._

"_Don't think I don't know, you piece of shit!" He stood over the walking dead as it was attempting to get at him. "I saw what you did to her," he swung down at full force into the dead's chest. "Couldn't get enough of hurtin' her even when you was dead?" He knew that his words didn't mean a thing to the man, that he didn't get the message if Daryl beat him to a pulp. He was dead and he didn't have the mind to understand Daryl's words no more._

_He pointed the shotgun at the man's head and pulled the trigger, finishing off the remnants of the man. He didn't waste any time getting out of the cabin. "Brother, I think'ya forget t' give ya girl a goodbye kiss," Merle's voice taunted from behind. Daryl turned around with a furious expression on his face. _

"_Merle, you my brother 'n all, but if you say one more word 'bout Hannah you'll be givin' a goodbye kiss to a bullet."_

* * *

_**A/n:** _Hope you all like it! Thank you all for your lovely reviews and such, makes me happy to see that people are interested!_  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Hannah sat out on the porch, taking her turn to watch out for the Walkers at night. She and Henry had been taking turns staying out, staying up one night at a time. They hadn't invited the other group to join in on keeping an eye out simply because they figured that they'd give them a break. Hannah had overheard them talking the first day that they were there and she found out that within the last two weeks they had lost at least four members of their and Hannah suspected that there could have been more.

When they had gone through losing a lot of their members their little group could hardly function at first. They had spent a long time in shock, the only thing bringing their functionality back was the realization that they were on the verge of starving. She didn't know this group but she knew that they deserved time to gather their heads.

"What are you doing out this late?"

Hannah jumped slightly at the question that had come from the side of the porch she hadn't been watching. She turned her head to see Rick, who she now knew to have been a sheriff's deputy prior to the apocalypse, standing at the edge of the porch. She watched as he walked around to the steps and she smiled at him.

"Keeping watch. Don't want to have some Walkers wandering around town in the morning when we wake up, now do we?" she asked, not expecting a real answer from him.

"Good point," Rick said. "You could have asked us to take turns watching. We're a part of this town too now."

"If you think you guys are up for it, we'd appreciate it," Hannah answered, making sure to not mention that she knew of their causalities and that had been the lack of invitation to help. They stood there for a few moments, both of them staring at the entrance to the town. Slowly a Walker appeared, dragging one of its feet along the ground, moaning loudly. It was about to walk past the entrance of the town when Hannah stood up. She had the knife that she had Pablo carry at all times during the day in her hand and she walked down the steps of the porch.

"Anything to stay safe," Rick said, watching as she jogged towards the Walker and jabbed the knife into its eye socket. As soon as the Walker had fallen she began dragging its body into the town. "Would you like help?" Rick offered as a gesture of politeness. If he could, he wanted to avoid having contact with the Walker but watching her pulling it on her own seemed like a rather unfair situation. Hannah shook her head, stopping by the porch to look at him. "It don't smell pretty and once you get around to piling them up, there's this kind of goo that just gets all over the place. It's a dirty job, but I don't mind being the one to do it," she said, bringing a wheelbarrow from the side of the porch. She managed to get it up into the wheelbarrow without much hassle.

"So why are you building walls out of Walkers anyways?" Rick asked, walking by Hannah's side as she wheeled the Walker to the currently smallest wall, which consisted of about three stacks of Walkers on top of each other, two stacks side by side. She looked at him as she placed the Walker on the stack that was further away, leaning on the other stack while she was at it. The smell was getting so bad that Hannah's stomach was threatening to bring up her dinner. "It's an experiment," she said as she finished placing the Walker so that it wouldn't just tip over and fall off the wall.

"Henry had figured that there must be something about the Walkers that kept them from eating each other. We tested that theory out when we met a horde of Walkers on the highway. They had left us alone while we had Walkers on top of us. When I was getting ready to clean up the streets in this town I wondered if this would help keep the Walkers at bay. If the smell of other Walkers might just get them to walk right past this place," she said, adding a shrug at the end. "Figured it wouldn't do much harm to try at least."

"That's… a good idea actually," Rick said, liking the concept. He had experienced firsthand that the Walkers wouldn't touch you if you smelled like them. So keeping a barrier of Walkers around the town could possibly keep them safe if a horde passed by. In theory, it could work. Since there had been no incident of Walkers getting in the town so far, he felt that it was promising.

"So how did it come to that you three wound up together? You don't exactly look like a predictable group of individuals." Rick's comment had caused Hannah to burst out laughing for a moment. "Predictable group of individuals? You couldn't have worded that better?" she asked after she had stopped laughing. "Sorry, sorry. Uncalled for, I know. But uhm, well. We were all a part of this huge group. I mean, at one point we were like, thirty people in one group. You'd think there'd be safety in numbers, but numbers just seemed to attract Walkers," she said as she began walking in the direction of her home.

"Slowly people around us died and that's how we came together. We survived while everyone else didn't," she said. "Guess that's how you guys wound up together, right? Part of a bigger group, split up or the other members died," she guessed and Rick nodded. They probably didn't look like a predictable group to her either. They had made more sense when they were a bigger group.

"I'm going to head back before I've been gone for too long," Rick said, heading off in the direction of the house they had chosen for their family. "If you ever need anything from us, let us know."

Despite being a tough man to begin with, Hannah was beginning to warm up to the leader. He was courteous and he seemed eager to make things work in the town. No wonder their group was so large and seemed to work well together. They had a good leader, someone who seemed to have the drive to get them where they needed to go, even if it might cost him some brownie points. There had been no such leader in Hannah's group, at least not one that prevailed over the others. There had always been a few individuals battling for the title of leader. Even Pablo's parents had been the kind of people who had fought to be the leaders. They were in a competition with each other, even if they didn't see it. That competition had cost them both their lives.

She looked up at the sky, which was beginning to lighten, indicating that sunrise and imminent. Which mean that it wasn't long until she would be able to go to sleep. Ecstatic with that realization she sat back down in the rocking chair and she watched the entrance to the town. She yawned, exhausted after having stayed away for nearly twenty four hours. She looked forward to getting more people to watch the entrance overnight. Maybe they'd even get shifts. Watch for a few hours, next person's turn.

By the time there was some movement in the town; Hannah was fast asleep in her rocking chair.

Daryl counted his arrows, making sure that he had them all with him. Confident that he had everything he needed he exited the house he had claimed as his own. He hadn't told anyone about it but the old man had seen it, which Daryl viewed as validation that it was officially his. He turned his head, expecting to see the old man sitting in that dumbass rocking chair. Instead he was met with the sight of the redhead, her head resting on her shoulder, indicating that she was fast asleep.

He had been keeping an eye on her whenever he noticed her out and about. She didn't stay in one place for long, usually moving around with a wheelbarrow filled with Walkers. It was slightly amusing to him to see her picking them up and wheel them around the town, hardly reacting when her clothes would get covered in Walker… goo or whatever the hall came out of them. It was hard to believe that this was the same girl that would always dust off her pants after sitting in the ground and insist that they had to wash their hands before handing any of the creatures he had managed to kill.

He would never have thought that she would have survived this long into the apocalypse. If he hadn't thought her dead to begin with, he would have been sure that she would have been one of the first to go in whatever group she joined. That's was part of the reason why he had been so eager to get to her. He had wanted to save her from the cruel fate he had thought waited for her.

He hadn't done it intentionally but he had been slowly walked over to her and now he found himself looking down at her. He had fought so hard to get her out of his mind. It was funny how Carol would make him remember her only a few days before he met her. If he believed in such things, he would have said that Carol was psychic or something like that. But it had been coincidence that she had asked if he had been in love or it had been coincidence that he had possibly been in love with Hannah. Either way, there was just chance that had brought the two events so close together.

Daryl reached out his hand allowing it to barely touch her skin, almost hovering over her cheek. She was warm, even though she was underdressed for someone who had been out all night. He touched her hair with his fingers for a few seconds before retracting his hand. What the hell was he doing? If she woke up to him touching her while she had been sleeping, what would she think of him? Would she yell at him to get away?

He immediately went down the steps of the porch and darted into the Georgia forest that was waiting for him just outside the town. Maybe he would be able to find something decent to hunt.

* * *

Henry had decided that waking her up would be fundamentally wrong. She had obviously dozed off while on watch but it was apparent from the knife in her hands that she had at least had something to do while on guard. He had carefully removed the knife from her hands and given it to Pablo. He didn't think that the boy needed to keep a knife with him at all times after she began constructing the walls but he knew that she would never forgive him if the boy wasn't armed while he wasn't in her line of sight.

He watched from the steps of the porch as the boy was busy talking to the other boy, the one that came with the other group. The boy, Carl, didn't really look like a good kid to Henry. There was something that felt off about the boy. Henry could have sworn that he had looked aggressively at them when they had first encountered the other group. He had expected such a thing from the adults but in his opinion, children's first instinct was never supposed to be aggressive. But then again, he had been completely wrong about Hannah so he took his gut feeling with a grain of salt.

He stood up when he noticed a couple from the other group approaching the house. He stepped away from the porch and met them half way, trying his best to keep them from getting too close to Hannah and waking her up. "Rick Grimes," the one Henry recognized as the leader said, extending his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Rick," he said, accepting Rick's hand. "Henry Barlow," he said with a nod.

"I was talking to… her," Rick said, suddenly realizing that he didn't know the redheads name. "Hannah," Henry interjected, receiving a nod of comprehension from Rick. "This morning about us taking part in watching for Walkers, during the night. I talked to my people and they agreed that we needed to do our fair share to protect this place too." Henry's eyes narrowed at the phrase _my people._

He had been hoping that they would be able to become a community, one big group living together. But Rick seemed to have other ideas. He was separating his posse from theirs and that made Henry feel on edge. Of course it could just be because he wasn't used to them yet. That the two groups weren't really merging at the moment. He and Hannah had been doing it too, they spoke of _them_ but somehow it seemed different. They spoke of them as a collective term because they were talking about the people they had lost.

"I'm glad to hear that you want to help out. As you might be able to tell, it's physically draining to stay up all night," he said, motioning towards Hannah. "I don't think she would be this worried about Walkers getting into the town if it weren't for the boys," he began, making sure to include their boy too. Somebody had to take the first step in referring to the group as a whole, in some way. "She's so worried about Pablo running into a Walker that she makes sure that he carries a knife at all times nowadays, unless he's sleeping."

"A knife? Is she insane? You never know what kids will do with weapons!" a woman with long dark hair said, protesting the information that Henry had revealed.

"She trusts Pablo to make the right decisions and I think Pablo respects the fact that she trusts him," Henry said defensively. "The boy has never once disobeyed her, which to me is a clear sign that she can trust him. Especially since he has only recent been under her care." It seemed that this silenced the woman completely. Henry wasn't sure whether it meant that he had made his point or struck a nerve. The way she retreated made him think that it was perhaps a blend of the two.

"I understand. Have to protect the kids," Rick finally said with a nod. "Anyways, T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, Hershel and I are all offering to split shifts with you two. I haven't gotten a hold of Daryl yet but I'm sure that he will be willing to take on a shift," Rick explained, not realizing that the old man didn't know who was who. "Well then, I'll see if anyone wants to take tonight, since you two have taken care of watching the town since we came," Rick said, nodding as if he was dismissing Henry.

Henry tried his best to not stomp back to the porch, succeeding fairly well in his opinion. This man, obviously the leader of their group, was not only excluding him, Pablo and Hannah from their group after they invited them into the town but he was also trying to take control over the way everything worked. Of course it made sense for the leader of the bigger group to take over the whole shindig but Henry didn't like the looks of things one bit. He turned his head and looked at the young woman who was sleeping in the rocking chair. There had been no particular leader in their group. She relied on him for advice and he allowed her to make the final calls. It might not have sounded like a fair deal but it involved both of their input. Henry suspected that Rick was not going to ask anyone about their advice before making decisions.

He turned back to look at the boys who were preoccupied with the Legos that Pablo had brought out. The other boy didn't exactly look interested in playing with Pablo but he seemed to enjoy having the company of someone closer to his age. As difficult as it felt being an old man in this new world, it must be even harder to be a child in this world, Henry thought. At least his life had mostly been spent in the comfort of the old world. Where civilization was still intact and people weren't turning into cruel creatures that tried to each the living. The children who managed to survive would have to grow up in this world.

Henry had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed when the familiar sound of the panels under the rocking chair squeaking, which they did whenever someone moved in them. When a hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder he had been startled for a moment until he remembered that there was only one person who could come from behind him. He turned around and smiled wearily at Hannah.

"Good morning, Hannah."

"More like good afternoon, Henry."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby. I didn't mean to pass out like that. Last thing I remember I was looking forward to finishing my shift and bam, I woke up and it's looking like it's the middle of the day," Hannah said, laughing at how futile it had been for her to keep herself away any longer. She couldn't even remember fighting the tiredness. It was like it had just struck her, KO'ing her in one swift hit. "Anything special happen while I was sleeping?" she inquired as she began stretching. A rocking chair wasn't really the most comfortable sleeping space.

"The leader of their group came on over and talking about putting people on shifts," Henry reported, trying hard to avoid letting his opinions of the man affect the tone of voice he spoke in.

"Great. Maybe I should go and talk with him about how we should split the nights into shifts and such," Hannah said, looking as if she was about to sprint off right away. Before she was able to run off Henry placed his hand on her shoulder. "How about you have some breakfast? Don't think I haven't noticed you skipping your meals," he said with a stern expression on his face. "It's time for Pablo to have some lunch at any rate," he added, hoping that including the boy would help convince her that she needed to eat.

Hannah stood up on her tiptoes, looking for Pablo. A smile cracked on to her face as she saw Pablo sitting on the street with the boy from the other group. "I think I'll get something to eat, but I'm going to bring the boys a snack. I think it's best if we allow them to become friends," she said, running into the house. She needed to change clothes, at any rate. She decided that taking a break from the Walls would be a welcome change. Even though she was beginning to get used to the smell of Walkers on her clothes she still didn't even remotely enjoy it.

She went through the closet that had belonged to whoever lived there; trying to find some light clothing that wouldn't cause her to sweat like a pig. It was almost inevitable in the afternoon heat but eventually she managed to find a pair of denim shorts that had been buried at the bottom of the closet. As she put them on, she realized that they were a couple of size too big. She pulled out a belt she had seen while rummaging through the closet and she tied it tightly to prevent her shorts from falling. It didn't take her long to decide what to wear for a top. After going through the female tops she discovered that the male equivalent of tank tops were smaller than the female tops.

She rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a can of apricots for the boys and a can of carrots and green beans for herself. She had no need for having the sweet fruits that Pablo seemed to enjoy so much so she always tried to pick something that she knew that he wouldn't eat. Luckily he was far from being a picky, which meant that there weren't a lot of things that he didn't eat. She took a couple of forks for the boys and a spoon for herself.

"Hannah, mind grabbing the keys to the pickup? One of them got a deer and wants to use the pickup."

For a moment, Hannah's face contorted at the thought of someone's dinner being in the bed of the pickup. Deciding that it wasn't an acceptable situation she went straight into one of the many storages in the house. This one had things like plastic bags and old bottles that had been collected to be recycled. At least, that's the only reason Hannah could think of that explained a huge black bag of bottles. She grabbed the black bag roll before she went and grabbed the keys to the pickup.

"Why don't I just tag along? Two is better than one," she said as she stepped right back out of the house. She looked up from the floor, only to see a face that was oddly familiar but she couldn't remember having seen earlier when Rick's group had arrived. Seeing the crossbow on his back she realized that he had been the one person who had never lowered his weapon. It took only a few minutes for her mind to make the connection. As soon as it did she dropped the roll of black plastic bags she had been holding under her arm.

"Hannah?" Henry questioned, confused by the situation. She shoved the things she had in her hands into his arms and she approached the man, who seemed to be equally shocked by the situation. She slowly extended her hand, placing it on to his face as if she was trying to figure out whether he was real or not.

Daryl hadn't wanted to face her so soon. He had wanted time to think, time to get used to the idea that she really wasn't dead. He had approached the old man about the pickup because he had figured that someone had woken her up and ushered her inside the house, on to a bed that would accommodate her better. When he had watched the old man yell into the house he had wanted to cancel the whole thing but it had already been too late and he knew it. But now her fingers were on his face and the look on her face was more than he had ever hoped for. He had wondered how she would react upon seeing him again. His worst fear had been that she would be angry with him for not having come for her.

"Daryl?"

"Yea, 's me," he answered, trying to keep his cool. But as soon as she jumped on to him, locking him in a warm embrace he couldn't. His hands automatically took their place around her, like he had done a few times before in the past. Her figure was much smaller now than it had been, almost to a point that it worried him. He took in her smell which was no longer a sweet blend of wildflowers and those hard candies that she would constantly munched on, but it was still familiar. When they broke the embrace she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand in an attempt to prevent the tears from flowing. Both of them just looked at each other for a while, taking in the fact that the other really was right there, in front of them.

"Daryl, thank you," she said, finally managing to squeeze the words out. Those words confused Daryl, what exactly was she thanking him for? He hadn't done anything for her yet, at least not that he knew of. Understanding what the look on his face meant, Hannah tittered. "You saved my life. If it hadn't been for you, I would have died a long time ago," she said. After thinking that he had failed to save her life for eighty something days, hearing those words were almost too much for him to take.

"Ain't no problem, don't gotta thank me," he said, feeling that he didn't deserve to be thanked by her.

Suddenly they both seemed to regain the knowledge that there were other people around them. Hannah scurried over to Henry and she took the items she had shoved into his arms. "Sorry," she said apologetically as she picked up the roll of black bags. She walked over to Pablo and Carl, trying her best to rectify the situation. She had pretty much forgotten about everything she had been doing when she saw Daryl.

"Mama, who's that man?" Pablo asked, looking at Hannah intently as she opened up the can of apricots.

"That's Daryl, he's from our group," Carl said, answering Pablo's question. "How do you know him?" Carl inquired.

"He's an old friend," Hannah said, answering the boys honestly. She looked at Pablo and smiled softly. "Mama's gonna go help Daryl bring in some food, alright?" she asked.

"Alright, mama," Pablo answered, giving her a quick hug before accepting both the forks.

"Ain't nuthin' t' look at here!" Hannah's attention was caught by Daryl yelling. She looked up to see some of the members of Daryl's group standing there, looking as if they were confused. She wondered how much they saw and what it looked like to them. She looked towards Henry, only to see that he was sitting in the rocking chair minding his own business. She wasn't sure whether it was a natural reaction or whether he was trying to avoid staring for her sake. She straightened herself and began walking towards Daryl, the black plastic bags and the keys to the pickup in her hand. "Yea, that's right. Go mind your own business!" She smiled, realizing that nothing about him had really changed. He was still just as rude as he had always been.

"Come on then," she said, heading towards the entrance of the town where the pickup was sitting patiently. Daryl seemed to give one last look towards the people who had stopped to look at them. Then he obediently followed her, taking his place in the passenger's seat. "You drivin' stick now, girl?" he asked with an amused tone. Hannah looked at him and chuckled. "A girl is forced to do a lot of thing in a zombie apocalypse," she said, turning the car and shifted into first gear. "How far down the road?" she questioned as she shifted into second gear.

"Ain't far, just little down the road, if you could it'd be helpful if you went off road for a bit, up right," he answered.

"Sounds good," Hannah said as she shifted into third gear. After only a couple of minutes Daryl directed her to turn off road. She turned off of the road and couldn't help but smile at how the pickup handled off road driving. "All right, stop around here," he said and Hannah quickly stepped on the brakes, forgetting to gear down and put her foot on the clutch, causing the car to choke and then go off. She switched the gear before getting out of the pickup, slightly embarrassed by the fact that she had killed the car. She immediately heaved herself on to the bed of the pickup, wanting to cover it up before they put the deer there.

"Guess not even an apocalypse can get you to park properly," Daryl teased, following Hannah's lead and getting on to the bed of the pickup.

"Shut up. You never even saw me drive a car, dumbass," she said, pulling a single black bag from the roll and carefully placing it on to the bed. They spent a few moments in silence, each trying to come up with something to say.

"I thought you were dead," he finally said, watching as she placed another black bag on the bed. "I gone to get ya, but there were two Walkers. One of 'em with your red hair."

Hannah looked up, interested by this piece of information. It was rare that her mother would be around. She would on many occasions leave her father, claiming that she was putting an end to his tyranny. But she would always come back, eventually. Hannah hadn't seen her mother since she was fifteen when she left her home for the last time. That was eight years spent in the company of her father, alone. She couldn't bear to leave her father all alone in the woods. He threatened many times to end his life if she did, that she was just like her mother, a heartless bitch. It had been enough to keep her around for twenty three years and she would have stayed longer, had he not kicked her out.

"Mom must have come back once she realized that it was the apocalypse or something," she said with a sigh. Her mother always returned when there was something out in the world that she couldn't handle. Sometimes she was out of money, other times she had gotten into trouble. Their only shared feature was their fiery red head, besides that she inherited most of her signature traits from her father, so she couldn't understand how he could mistake her mother for her, even if she was a Walker. But she shrugged it off, reminding herself that it took no time for Walkers to look like they had never been alive at all.

She decided to keep it to herself that she had gone and waited for him at their spot on the day her father had thrown her out. Making him feel worse about not being there to _save_ her was useless and that's what she thought she would do by telling him that she had waited for him. It was like telling him that he had once had a chance but that he blew it unknowingly.

"Don't need no help," Daryl protested as Hannah began to help him lift the deer. He received an eye roll from Hannah, who stubborn lifted up opposite of Daryl, exhibiting strength that she had ever possessed in his company before. "I'm not the same weak-ass little girl you knew Daryl," she said as they pulled the deer on to the bed of the pickup. "Let's go, I'm sure everyone will be happy with some meat," she said, returning to the driver's seat.

"Sure as hell you ain't the same girl," Daryl said as they began to roll back down towards the road. "Shootin' down Walkers by the dozen, gettin' your hands dirty buildin that wall… Wouldn't expect that from the old Hannah."

"Old Hannah wouldn't have survived in this world as long as I have. Not without help from someone like you," she said with a laugh. She probably would have continued to be the same girl if she had joined forces with him or she wouldn't have picked up the skills she had at the same speed at any rate. She would have let him take care of her, protect her from the Walkers and hunt for her. He would've too, at least for her. As much as he claimed he didn't like people and that he needed to watch out for himself, he would protect and take care of whoever really needed it. At least, the Daryl she had known before the apocalypse had been like that.

"But thanks to your lessons, I've managed to stay alive and keep both Henry and Pablo alive while I'm at it."

So he had done something for her. Daryl glanced at her, watching as she focused on the road ahead. Those lessons had been intended more for him than her. He just wanted to spend time with her and he sure as hell couldn't bring her home to his father and Merle. Both of them were sure to put him down in some way or do something that would scare her away permanently. So teaching her to survive out in the forest was the only activity he could think of that the two of them could do together on their own and on the plus side, it had at times allowed him to lay his hands on her without it being too obvious to her.

* * *

**A/n:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wanted to thank you call for your reviews! They make me happy. :) I might not be able to update at all from tomorrow to Sunday, due to going on a small vacation. However, you can count on me to update as soon as I can!


	5. Chapter 5

It had felt like a typical morning for everyone when they woke up. There was a slight fear in the pit of their stomachs that there would be a horde of Walkers waiting for them out in the town when they woke up and there was the constant worry that they had somehow overestimated the amount of food that they had. But when those worries were cleared, the day would proceed as normal, everyone going about their business, trying to live a normal life in Nightingale.

However, by mid-day it was obvious that things weren't going as they usually did. T-Dog had been the first one to notice that the two adults that had settled in the town before them were no longer on the same page. They weren't shouting or arguing loudly, but from the way the girl turned away from the old man as he spoke to her with a worried expression on his face it was obvious that something was going on. He tried his best to avoid giving away his curiosity by only glancing at times, but it was hard to not know what was going on.

Hannah was carefully placing wet clothes on the handrail of the porch. She had joined the other women in washing the clothes and it had been a surprisingly entertaining activity. She was beginning to warm up to them and it felt like they were doing the same to her. The conversation had been particularly bland- something about how difficult it was to get blood stains out of clothes, but it was a conversation about something _fairly_ normal at least. As she put down the Batman t-shirt that Pablo had grown fond of, she tried to tune out the ramblings of Henry. He was convinced that Rick had no intention of including them in the group; that this wasn't going to be a community in which they were welcome.

"We're lucky they haven't kicked us out yet. Don't you see that, Hannah?"

That was it. She turned around and crossed her arms, looking at him with a bothered expression. "Henry, they have been nothing but civil to us since they have arrived. So what if he tends to take control? He's been their leader since… Probably since this whole thing began. You can't blame him for trying to keep things running smoothly," she said with uncharacteristically sharp tone in her voice. She liked Rick and she liked their group. She couldn't wrap her mind around how Henry was convinced that there was some sort of conspiracy going down.

"You know what happens when people try to take control, Hannah. You've seen it," Henry warned, reminding her of the tragic fate of Pablo's parents.

"And that's why we should just let him be in control. He's kept them alive this long."

Henry, frustrated with the young woman's obduracy, retreated into the house. Hannah sighed before continuing placing the laundry on the handrail so that it could dry. She had thought that things were going to look up after she had found Daryl but it seemed that things were only getting more difficult. She was relieved to have him present in Nightingale though, even though he wasn't always visible.

They hadn't had much time to catch up. Almost as soon as they returned to town he had to go and deal with the deer while she had gone to Rick to discuss how they should organize the look-out. Daryl, being his old self, had disappeared when everyone had gathered to feast on the deer. Even though she was slightly hurt by the fact that he hadn't stuck around to talk to her, she knew that it was just the way he was. As nice as he had always been to her, he had never been very fond of being around people.

"Hannah-?"

Startled by the unexpected voice, Hannah dropped the pair of jeans she held in her hands. She picked them up before looking towards the steps of the porch to see Lori standing there. She smiled at the brunette before quickly placing the jeans on the handrail, effectively finishing putting up all the laundry that could be set out on the porch.

"Hi, Lori," she said, trying to cover up the fact that she had been startled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you," Lori apologized. Hannah waved her hand as an indication that she shouldn't think about it. "I just wanted to see if the boys were here?"

"Yeah, they're inside, building with the Legos last time I checked," Hannah answered. She could tell that Lori was relieved to hear that Carl was indeed in a location where someone could keep an eye on him. She liked to think that she understood what it meant to worry about your child. Given, she hadn't raised Pablo from birth and she hadn't been there to witness him take his first steps or say his first word, but it felt like he belonged to her. Heck, she was willing to die if it meant that it would save his life. He had become her number one priority, keeping him alive was something she wanted to do. Making sure that he'd grow up to be adept in surviving in this world and be able to survive on his own.

"I'm glad that he's found someone to play with," Lori admitted. "It's been so hard trying to keep things normal for him. Ever since Sophia…" Hannah's expression softened immediately hearing how Lori trailed off. She still hadn't heard anything about the members that had passed away, but from the context she was able to assume that Sophia had been a child. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trail off," Lori said, obviously forcing the smile that was on her face.

"You don't have to apologize," Hannah replied. "It's hard not to when you've seen so many terrible things. It's a wonder that people are able to hold up conversations at all." Her attempt to rectify the situation didn't go unnoticed by Lori, who was now wearing a more genuine smile, albeit much smaller than the one she had been faking.

"I take that you've seen your fair share of terrible things, huh." Lori could only assume that they had, seeing that there were only three of them. She had no idea whether their group had been much bigger than that but she liked to think that the boy had at one point had his parents by his side.

"We all have. But yes, I've seen a lot. It's a bitch to live in this new world. You never run out of things to be sad about," she commented, her hand automatically reaching up for the necklace that she was wearing. It was the heart-shaped one that she had picked off of the Walker. It was the first piece of jewelry that had managed to move her, that had made her feel something. But it wasn't until she had found Daryl that she had found a longing to wear it. Not that she had any romantic memories related to him. It had just seemed to make sense to wear it.

"Is that from Daryl?" Lori asked, finally caving into the curiosity. Everyone had seen how they had embraced a couple of days ago and it had been a mystery that none of them could solve. Seeing Daryl, the man who purposely isolated himself from the others, wrap his arms around her and act so… _soft_ towards her had baffled everyone.

"Daryl?" Hannah laughed at the suggestion. "I think the day Daryl gives someone jewelry, hell will freeze over." The closest he had gotten to giving her anything was when he would give her the game that they had managed to hunt. The game he managed to hunt, to be more correct. Hannah briefly considered revealing the origin of the necklace but decided against it. What would they think of her if they knew that she took the jewelry off of Walkers?

"Do you mind if I ask what… the relationship between you two is?"

"Daryl and me?" Hannah asked, knowing well that that was what Lori was talking about. Once Lori had nodded she took a moment to think what their relationship was. "I guess we were friends before everything started happening," she said with a shrug. "He was the closest thing to a neighbor I had." She could see that Lori was intrigued by their relationship and Hannah couldn't blame her. If she had been anyone else, she would have been flabbergasted that Daryl was capable of having friends. He was such a private person.

"We met a year before the dead started walking. He actually came this close to shooting me the day we met," Hannah said, pinching her fingers indicating that it had been a close call. "He was out huntin' and I happened to be picking mushrooms. If he hadn't seen my red hair all of a sudden, he said he would have wound up shooting me. He was very angry at me _bein' in his way_."

"Doesn't sound like a good way to start a friendship," Lori commented, earnestly intrigued by the story.

"Oh, it wasn't. We didn't really become friends right away. A few days later I ran into him again and that time he was a lot more pleasant. He apologized for calling me… rude names. Then I started asking him questions. I'm sure I got on his nerves but he endured my company whenever I forced myself upon him. Eventually he began actually conversing with me without being obscene or impatient. After a while he would be waiting for me at _our_ spot. He would teach me how to hunt and shoot a gun, things that he had been doing his whole life."

Knowing that Daryl had a softer or at least more patient side to him put Lori at ease. She trusted him to keep them safe but she had always had little faith in how he acted towards others. He didn't know how to watch his words and if he did, he chose not to do so. When they had embraced, Lori had seen a gentler side to Daryl; one that up until then she had thought didn't exist.

Hannah, recognizing the expression on Lori's face as some form of relief realized that there must have been something about Daryl that had worried her. "Ain't a lot of people that showed him kindness before, I think. I don't think he tries to be mean." They had never really talked about their lives at home. The few times she had tried asking him about what it was like for him, he would mostly avoid the subject only mentioning his brother a few times. He never asked her about what it was like at her house, although she was sure that he had figured at least bits and pieces of what went down.

Judging by the amount of time they had both spent outside of their homes, together, she had figured that they were both avoiding something.

"How about you join us for dinner tonight? We're going to try and get all together in the center and have a nice meal. There's still plenty of deer left for everyone," Lori said, deciding that reaching out to this stranger wasn't such a bad idea. So far there was no indication that this girl was a danger to any of them. "You, Pablo and Henry are welcome."

"I'd love to come and I'm sure Pablo would too. I'll have to see whether Henry is up for it. His knees are really beginning to bother him," Hannah said, making an excuse for Henry if he decided that this was some sort of plot against them. She didn't want to risk befriending the group because Henry didn't trust them or like the fact that there was going to be a single leader instead of teamwork, like they had been relying on when it was just the three of them.

"If Carl asks, I'll be at the house, alright?"

"I'll tell him that."

Hannah took a seat in the rocking chair as she watched Lori walk away. She was ecstatic that things seemed to be working. The sooner they became one community, instead of two groups, the better. She directed her attention away from the brunette to the house that was next door. She hadn't seen Daryl pretty much all day, except for in the morning, when he had been fetching a pale of water. Deciding that he had had enough time to himself she stood up and headed straight for his place.

* * *

Daryl had been avoiding her since they got back. Even though she had been happy to see him it was still difficult for him to be around her. The urge to touch her, to stroke her hair or anything similar to that was so strong that it was difficult to control himself. Even worse, he could no longer use the guise of teaching her how to shoot or hunt as a cover for this urge. From the first moment he had been up close to her he had felt it. At first he had dismissed it as curiosity. After all, he had never really had a chance to be tender with anyone. Not that he needed to or nuthin'.

She could take care of herself. She wasn't going to need him to help her hold a gun or take care of Walkers. She had truly _learned_ from his lessons and that drove him crazy. She didn't need him for anything anymore, at least not as far as he could tell. There was no one driving her out of her home every day and there was no one she needed to be protected from that she couldn't handle herself.

What a selfish prick he was being. Here he was, lying in bed and resenting the fact that she no longer had to run to him for protection or whatever it was she got from him. He was supposed to be relieved that she didn't need him anymore. He was supposed to rejoice at the fact that she was free from whatever it had been that that bastard put her through.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at his door. Groaning, he sat up on the bed. _Can't do nuthin' on their own._ He thought to himself as he stood up and made his way to the front door. Before he was able to answer it there was another set of knocks.

"Don't ya got sumthin' better to do than knock on my door all day?" he growled as he opened the door. However, instead of it being someone from his group like he had expected, he saw the red headed woman he had just been thinking about. Slightly embarrassed at this mistake he looked away, allowing the door to stay wide open.

"Not really," Hannah replied with a grin as she walked into his house without an invitation. "Like what you've done with the place," she said sarcastically as she looked at the family photos that were on the wall, belonging to the people that had lived there before. There wasn't much that Daryl could have done to make the place his own and she was more than certain that he didn't really care either.

"Wha'd'ya want?"

Hannah turned to look at Daryl who was busy looking at any other direction than straight at her. The thought occurred to her that maybe he hadn't needed time to himself, that maybe he needed time away from her. Not wanting this realization to ruin her mood, she decided to ignore it.

"I'm not allowed to come see my buddy?"

"I ain't anybody's buddy," Daryl snarled, immediately regretting his words. What was he thinking? Snarling at her because she had outgrown needing him was a childish thing to do. He followed as she walked into the living room. He could tell from the way she dragged her feet slightly that he must have upset her. At least, that's what he figured. She would always do that on the days she would come to their spot a little later, the days when she was always a little less talkative.

"Do you like friend better?"

Hannah was trying to play it off. Maybe he was still recovering from the fact that she was still alive or maybe it had been too long since they last met. Both of them must have gone through a lot of shit since they last met and things can change people. She had thought that he was the same old Daryl Dixon but maybe she had been wrong.

"'S a lil' better," he said, trying to humor her. "Why ya comin' all the way to my place?"

"All the way next door?" Hannah laughed, assuming that he was trying to rectify the situation. "I wanted to see you. Haven't really talked to you since we picked up the deer."

That was the kind of stuff that Daryl wanted to hear. Even if she didn't need him, she still wanted to see him. "Been busy," he replied, knowing that she knew better. He had been cooped up in the house pretty much most of the time since he had finished salvaging the meat from the deer.

"So what have you been doing, since I last saw you? Tell me all about your crazy antics and misadventures. Tell me what I've been missing," Hannah demanded as she plumped herself down on to the couch. She watched as he thought about it. She very much expected him to tell her to piss off, that he didn't need to tell her anything. He had often done that whenever she asked about something he didn't want to talk about. "If you don't wanna, that's fine," she finally said. "I can just ask the group about you, I'm sure they'd be more than happy to share with me."

Finally caving in, Daryl took a seat in the recliner and he began to tell her what had gone down, from the moment he and Merle left the little cabin she had lived in. It didn't take him long to lose himself in the retelling of everything that she had missed by not being by his side. He didn't spare her any story, from searching for Sophia to relieving Dale.

* * *

Henry didn't like the sound of this dinner one bit. Why were they acting like they were being kind, giving him, Hannah and Pablo a part of it? She had tried assuring him that they weren't being kind; it simply had been a suggestion that they consume the meat together.

"Henry, are you ready to go?"

He grunted in reply as he walked out of the bedroom that was now his. It had belonged to a teenaged girl and it suited his taste ill but he hadn't thought it right that he would be the one to get the master bedroom when Pablo and Hannah would be sharing a bed. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the boy and the woman standing at the door, both wearing clean clothes and their faces free of dirt. No matter how irked he was with the sheriff, he was happy that they were in a place that at least felt like it was normal.

"You look lovely, Hannah," he said, making it a point to compliment her. Even if it was the apocalypse, ladies still needed to be treated as ladies. In reply she stood on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Henry." She opened the door, allowing both Henry and Pablo to get out of the house before exiting herself. As soon as she shut the door, Pablo grabbed her hand.

"Hungry yet?" she asked, receiving a nod from the boy as a reply.

It seemed that getting everyone to gather for dinner had been a huge success. The center of the town was already filled with the other group, everyone chattering away happily. It didn't take long for Carl to lure Pablo away from Hannah so that they could play on their own.

"I'm glad to see you made it, Henry," Rick said, having heard from Lori that the chance that the old man would be absent from the dinner was high. Henry, who had been absorbed in his own conspiracy theories, looked up to see a genuine smile on Rick's face. Instantly his posture relaxed. "Thank you," he said, taking a seat in one of the many chairs that had been brought out. It wasn't long before everyone began to help themselves to food and commence feasting.

Hannah, however, looked around in hopes of finding Daryl somewhere within the crowd. It had only been a half hour since she had left his house in order to get Pablo ready for dinner and she had made him promise that he would show up. Disappointed she tried to tune in to the conversations that were going on around. After going through a few conversations she finally decided that there were no conversations taking place that she could just go ahead and enter. She stood up and walked around to one of the porches so that she could see Pablo and Carl better.

"It's hard not to worry, isn't it?"

She looked away from the boys to see the woman with the short hair, Carol. She smiled and nodded. "I've see too many children just wander off and…" she stopped, the memories disturbing. "I don't want that happening to Pablo. I don't know what I'd do. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I lost him, you know?" she said, not knowing how well Carol knew that feeling.

"I lost my little girl."

Hannah looked at Carol with a look of absolute horror. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, don't be. You didn't know," Carol said. "We searched for what felt like forever. Daryl harder than anyone else," she explained. "When we found her, it was too late."

Hannah tried her best to imagine what it felt like; losing your child only to find out that it had become a Walker. A chill crept down her spine. She looked at Carol, trying to understand what it felt like, only to see a woman who seemed focused on moving forward. As cruel as it would seem to some people, Hannah told herself that she understood. In a world where thousands of people, heck, millions of people were dying in such short notice there wasn't much you could do to prevent people you love from dying.

"I'm sorry to hear about your girl."

They stood in silence for a while, both catering to their own thoughts. Both finding comfort in each other's company.

"Looks like someone's looking for you," Carol said as she noticed Daryl sauntering towards the group. Hannah looked up, her eyes first traveling to Pablo, then to Henry. Once she realized that it was neither of them she scanned the area, her eyes meeting with Daryl's from a distance. Hannah looked at Carol, as if she was trying to excuse herself. "You should hurry up, I don't he'll wait forever," Carol said, giving Hannah the nudge that she needed to get going. Carol headed back to the seat she had taken earlier next to Lori, her eyes occasionally wandering in the direction of Hannah and Daryl. The way he looked at her was unmistakable to her. Had he not told her, she wouldn't have thought of it twice. But he had and she did.

She smiled to herself as she continued to eat, happy with the fact that he had found her.

* * *

Far from the sight of Nightingale residents was another group of survivors keeping eye on them. They weren't the same kind of survivors as the others. They didn't make amends or try to get along with other groups. Diplomacy was for pussies, that was their motto. This group certainly wasn't one of their favorites.

"Won't ya look 't that," a hoarse voice said as his eyes were fixated on the group. "Nice ol' family din'r. How's 'bout we pay 'em a visit, boys?"

The suggestion was met with general agreement of the group. The man who had suggested the visit stared intently at the fire and the people gathered around it. He was searching hard for the one face he had actually wanted to see. After a while of searching he finally found that person, standing outside of the group with what looked like a pretty lil' redhead.

"Ain't that a hoot," he muttered to himself. "Looks like lil' Darlena found me a first lady."

* * *

**A/N:** Here's a tip: never write hungry. I realized that it was showing in my writing, since I just wrote two chapters for two different stories, both containing rather delicious sounding dinners! Oh well, what's done is done... I managed to write up one more chapter before I head out tomorrow. I really hated the thought of not posting daily while I actually still am able to write enough for ever day, haha. A special thank you to those who take time to review pretty much all the time. You guys make me all giddy!


	6. Chapter 6

Keeping her eyes open was an unusually difficult task for Hannah. Even though they now had a watch schedule set up for maximum security, she was unable to sleep most nights through due to the thought that what they had was too good to be true. Which wasn't an exaggeration, given the circumstances. There had been no Walker activity as of late, there was plenty to eat and they were once more living in a pleasant community.

Oh, and she now had Daryl by her side. Whenever, if, she needed anything he was more than willing to help. Hell, she had even convinced him to teach Pablo the basics of hunting. It hadn't been an easy task but once she had convinced him that Pablo was the most obedient child she had encountered since the apocalypse began he consented. It had been important to her that Pablo would get to know the basics of hunting and it seemed even better if he learned so from the person that had taught her everything she needed to survive.

She could have sworn that she was just closing her eyes for a moment but suddenly she awoke to something clicking. She tried to grab her rifle but it wasn't in her arms, like it had been last time she checked. Her eyes, now wide open, landed upon a burly man who seemed to be rather content with the way she reacted.

"Well, ain't this a nice pict'a," the man said, in his hand the rifle that was Hannah's weapon of choice. If the man had given her enough room, Hannah would have stood up to face him but she was blocked by him standing directly in front of the rocking chair.

"What the fuck do you want?" Hannah asked, not even bothering with censoring her language. This man had her rifle in his hands, which meant that he was not there to play around. Playing nice wasn't on the top of her list.

"That's a lil' rude, don't'ya think?" the man asked before emitting a near silent laughter. "'S that h'ya speak to my lil' brother?"

Little brother? It took Hannah a moment to try and figure out who he could have been referring to. However, when she took into account the way he spoke it became obvious who he was talking about: Daryl. She desperately tried to gather all the information she had received about him from Daryl, only to come up with a handful of facts that were useless in dealing with this man, who at the moment, was getting on Hannah's nerves.

Deciding that sitting around would do more harm that standing up to him, she pushed back the chair using her feet and she stood up. "It's how I speak to people who take my weapons," she said, standing a few inches away from the man. Her hand reached for the knife she usually had with her, only for her to remember that she had made Pablo sleep with it for some reason. Even if it left her defenseless, she was happy that the boy had something to defend himself with.

"Oh, feisty. Daryl ne'r told me 'bout yer 'tude," he said, grabbing her by the arm. This girl was exactly his type: she knew how to handle a gun, she had balls to stand up to him and she had attitude. Above all, Daryl liked her for some reason, which meant that Merle had to have some of _'that'_.

"Don't touch me," Hannah said as she yanked her hand away, unwittingly provoking him further. "Daryl never saw any attitude," she snarled, lying through her teeth. Once she had gotten comfortable with Daryl she had freely shown him attitude when she felt that he deserved it. It never went well when she decided to say something snappy since Daryl never took her crap.

"List'n here girl," Merle said, grabbing her once more and pulling her closer. "Ya'r comin' with me."

"What if I don't?" she challenged, raising her brows.

"How 'bout I teach the boy how t'hunt?"

The words didn't indicate that it was a real threat but Hannah's mind instantly filled with ideas of what he could mean. Most of them didn't end well for Pablo and even though they wouldn't end well for this man, it would be too late to save Pablo. Deciding that it wasn't worth risking Pablo's life, Hannah let a resigned sigh slip past her lips. Whatever this man, Daryl's brother, had in mind, she had to go along with it for the sake of the boy she was coming to look at as her own offspring.

"'Fore we go, I need ya to do sumthin' for me."

* * *

"Mama?"

The house was quiet, except for the loud snores coming from Henry's room. It was early and Pablo had gotten up early in order to be ready for his hunting lessons with Daryl. Ever since Carl and his group moved into Nightingale a schedule had formed and Pablo found himself up earlier and earlier every morning. This one he had been extra excited since Daryl was the one who had taught Hannah how to hunt. In her words, he had saved_ their_ lives.

He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in the house. His breakfast had been ready on the table, like it was every morning if she didn't fall asleep out on the porch. But now that his calls were unanswered he began to feel uneasy. She was always there for him in the morning, to send him off so that he could go off and do whatever he had to do that day. Mornings and dinner seemed to be some sort of family time for the two of them.

Entering Henry's room, he slammed the door in an attempt to get the old man to wake up but it seemed he only snored louder. Agitated with the old man's "response", Pablo began to shake the man's hand. This method proved to be much more effective than slamming the door, seeing as the old man's eyes fluttered opened.

"What do you need, Pablo?" Henry groaned, all of his physical energy having been drained the previous day. He was usually allowed to sleep through the morning unless Hannah went out with her _friend_ in the mornings, leaving Pablo to depend on him if there was something he couldn't handle on his own.

"I can't find mama."

Those words, so short and simple were enough to get the old man to instantly rise in his bed. If this was any other girl or any other kind of world he wouldn't have panicked. But this was that kind of world and it was Hannah that was the person in question. Not once could her recall her leaving without notifying either Pablo or him if the boy were to go with her. It had been a habit he considered unnecessary since they moved into Nightingale but now it served a good purpose.

Henry got dressed as quickly as he could under the watchful eye of Pablo. He could tell that the boy was worried about the situation as well, the expression on his face being one of confusion. It had been weeks since the boy had been separated from her without some sort of warning. The old man left the room in a hurry, Pablo shadowing him as he searched the house for the girl, hoping that she had simply fallen asleep in a place where Pablo hadn't thought to look.

After searching the house he went out, remembering that it had been her turn to keep watch overnight. The rocking chair was empty, even missing the blanket that had been placed there by D-Dog, or whatever the man called himself. Henry was too worried about his current problem to remember the ridiculous nickname that the man had. He looked around the area, noticing that the farmer and his daughters were already up. The area was clean of any suspicious activity, which bothered Henry even more.

"Excuse me," Henry called out as he began to wobble towards Hershel and his daughters, all of which immediately turned their heads and looked at him with kind expressions. They had been the ones that Henry liked the best, perhaps it was him being ageist, but the fact that Hershel was also older than most of the others had certainly helped Henry with his opinion. "You don't happen to have seen Hannah go somewhere this morning?" he asked when they were finally close enough to hear his question properly.

They all looked at each other, each sharing a questioning glance. After they had mentally checked each other Maggie shook her head: "Sorry. I thought she had just gone in when we came out."

"Is she missing?" Beth asked, frightened by the idea that the redhead had disappeared.

"We don't know yet," Henry replied, vexed by the fact that the girl had asked that question in front of Pablo. The last thing the boy needed was to think that he might have lost yet another mother.

"Why don't you go and see if your mama's friend is at his house?" Henry suggested as they approached their home. Pablo didn't answer verbally but he had obviously signed yes since he ran right over to Daryl's house and flew up the steps and began knocking at the door eagerly.

Pleased with this sight Henry headed up their porch, teetering from one step to another. When he finally had both feet planted firmly on the porch he began heading for the door, only to discover a piece of paper tucked into the carving on the door. A knot in his stomach immediately formed as his stiff fingers bent as he picked up the note. The handwriting was surprisingly legible, Henry had expected it to be difficult to decipher but judging from how neatly it had been written, it looked as if a female had written it.

"Hannah," he muttered to himself as he began to read the letter.

_We are no longer alone. They want Nightingale and they are willing to fight us. He says that they have more firepower and more men. We won't stand a chance, he claims. We can leave or we can fight. There will be some who will be forced to fall even if we leave. Tell Daryl that Merle wants to see him and if he ever had learned anything from Merle, he would be able to find us easy enough if he doesn't let the trail go cold._

_Love, Hannah_

_p.s. no more putting it off, Pablo has to grow up. _

"Ya sure ya'll checked out the whole house?"

Henry turned around to see Pablo climbing the porch with Daryl by his side. His first instinct was to be mad at the damn redneck. Whoever it was who got Hannah to leave, Daryl knew him. Henry was sure that it was no coincidence that Hannah was the one who was taken, seeing as she was the one who was the closest to him. Yet when he saw the look on the man's face; one that was a blend of concern and hope, he couldn't blame him. Thinking over the content of the letter it came off as this Merle was more like an old friend of Daryl's, rather than some sort of accomplice.

"Does the name Merle mean anything to you, son?"

Daryl looked up, confused as to what this had to do with Hannah's absence. "Listen ol' man, if this 's some kind o' game, it ain't funny," he said, hoping that the speculation was a random one. Henry shook his head vehemently, harshly protesting the notion that he was playing a game. "'S my brother's name. How come?"

Henry didn't want to reveal the content of the letter in front of the boy so instead he passed the note over to Daryl. He seemed to be slightly amused at first sight of the letter but as he began to read his expression changed and became serious. The boy tried standing on his toes to see on the letter only to have it pulled from under his nose as Daryl raised the paper higher.

By the time Daryl had finished the letter he was flabbergasted. It was a threat and he knew that it was one hundred percent serious. Since Merle's disappearance in Atlanta, he had figured that he would be relieved to see his brother. Blood was supposed to run thicker than water, after all. The more time he spent with Rick and the rest of the group, the more he came to like them. Hell, he knew that he was going to piss off Merle if they ever met again. That had been perfectly clear in the visions he had when he had been thrown off of that damn horse. The things he had done to piss off Merle had nothing to do with Hannah. If he should have kidnapped anyone, it should have been T-Dog or Rick or someone from his group.

He immediately climbed down the steps, not wanting to waste another minute. He ignored the old man, who was trying to say something to him. There was no telling what Merle, or whoever his _buddies_ were, would do to Hannah.

As soon as he had gotten his crossbow and a revolver that he could have handy he headed out of the town.

"Daryl!"

He turned his head to see Rick heading his way. Angered by the fact that he could never do anything without everyone sticking their nose in his business he shouted: "I ain't gonna need yer help, Rick." He watched as the former cop, or whatever he had been, jogged to approach him. Daryl knew that it was perfectly reasonable for Rick to want to talk to him, heck, he would be pissed it Rick tried to leave him in the dark with a situation that had the chance to escalate like this one.

"I need to know what's going on, Daryl. The old man was questioning Hershel, Maggie and Beth and now they seemed to be worried 'bout something," Rick demanded. He had been considering just letting Daryl go about his business, the man had shown that he had plenty of common sense before but he didn't like being in the dark. With the way the old man kept as little contact with him as possible didn't help either- Rick had no way of knowing whether the man would reveal what was really going on.

"Merle's 'ere," Daryl answered, wondering if that answer was going to suffice. He watched as Rick had to take a moment to remember who Merle was. "'S my brother," Daryl pointed out, resisting the urge to add something mean to the end. It wasn't like Rick had gotten a lot of quality time with Merle, only meeting him for a day. "Ya'll left him on a roof in Atlanta, 'member?" Once it seemed to fully come to Rick his expression change to one of worry.

"Does Hannah know him too, then?" Rick asked, trying to connect the dots. If Hannah and Daryl had been… whatever they were before the Walkers, it wouldn't surprise him if Merle had been familiar with her. From what he had experienced, Merle wasn't exactly the kind of person the redhead would hang around with but then again Daryl wasn't exactly the kind of person he would picture her spending time with either.

"Hell no. I wa'nt gonna let her get near 'im," Daryl protested. "Hannah don't like racism much and she don't like people like Merle."

He had always been worried that Merle would look her up, scare her away. He would never have brought Merle along with him to go get Hannah if it hadn't been the end of the world. Merle could charm a lady out of her pants somehow, although Daryl could never really tell how he did it while simultaneously being himself. But those ladies were usually more _experienced_ and a little looser and if they weren't, Merle sure as hell made sure they would be afterwards. He had told himself that Hannah would never succumb to his charm and from the letter he was sure that she had managed to resist so far.

"Why would she go with him, then? If he isn't the kind of person she wouldn't like?" Rick questioned, knowing that the answer was obvious.

"Don't think she went with 'im 'cause she wanted," Daryl answered. "Think Merle wants to see me. Pro'ly thinks I ain't gonna come 'cause of you so he needed somethin' to get me to come to 'im." He was beginning to feel resentment directed towards Rick and his group. Sure, he had grown to like them well enough but if he hadn't then he was sure that there had been no need for Merle to drag Hannah into this. It had to be someone's fault that Merle decided to take the redhead who had no hand in how Daryl had changed over time.

"Is it just Merle though?"

"Nah, sounds like there's a bunch of 'em. They want to take this town," Daryl said, now remembering that there was more to this situation than just saving Hannah. They had to save the town, too. "Hannah's letter said somethin' 'bout them having more firepower 'n men. We can leave or fight."

Take the town? The thought that someone was trying to take over Nightingale infuriated Rick. They hadn't been there for long and things were just beginning to feel normal and now a bunch of thugs wanted to take it away from them? There was no way in hell that they were going to let that happen without a fight. If they choose to run they would be forced to live in tents once more. They might find another place but there was always going to be someone claiming to be bigger, better, who would want their town. Giving up and leaving with their tails between their legs was no longer an option.

"Looks like we're going to fight for Nightingale then," Rick said, receiving a look of approval from Daryl. "Guess you should go and see if you can alleviate the situation first."

Daryl was sure that there wasn't going to be any alleviating the situation. Even if he did manage to talk to Merle and things were okay between them, he was sure that the others wouldn't take to well to the suggestion that they piss off. But he nodded none the less to Rick, promising that he'd do his best.

"Don't get yer hopes up," Daryl said as he began to walk out of the town. "Arm ev'ryone and I mean it, Rick."

Knowing that they were going to be prepared if needed, Daryl began to survey the area for tracks. From the sounds of the letter, Merle wanted him to be able to find their tracks easily. After a moment of looking around he saw the anomaly. There were footsteps belonging to one person while around and on top of them there seemed to be tracks from something being dragged along its feet.

"Damn it, Merle," Daryl said, realizing that there was one more thing he hadn't noticed until he was bent over their tracks. Blood.

* * *

**a/n:** so I'm back! I didn't wind up writing as much as I had planned on while I was away... Mostly I got into a whole new story. But I do have things planned! Anyways, I know this chapter is not only short but I don't feel it's as good as the previous ones have been... Sorry about that. :) Anyways, hope you enjoyed though! Thanks for being wonderful as always and letting me know what you guys think. You're awesome. 3


	7. Chapter 7

"Was it necessary to cut my arm?" the redhead snarled as she held up a cloth against her arm. He had knocked her out with a single punch as they were leaving the town and it seemed that he had cut her arm while he was at it. As far as she knew, there had been no real point in cutting her arm. She lifted up the cloth to reveal the cut, which was deep enough to give her the willies.

"'S all part o' the plan, sweetcheeks," he replied as he placed some weapons on top of a shelf that was far out of Hannah's reach.

"It's Hannah," she corrected with venom in her voice.

"Sweetcheeks sounds better tho," he said, slowly approaching her. Since she was sitting on a bar stool, Hannah didn't really have enough time to back up before he was standing so close to her that she could pretty much feel him breathe on her. It was hard to believe that this man was related to Daryl. He was a completely different person than the Daryl she knew. Even the tone that he spoke in was far sharper than Daryl's had ever been.

As soon as Merle's hand touched her cheek she swatted his hand before falling backwards due to the shaky nature of the stool she had been sitting on top of. While it only frustrated Hannah, the events seemed to amuse Merle, who was laughing loudly and saying something unintelligible. She stood up immediately, determined to not be cornered further by this vile man.

"How 'bout ya give me some of that sweet ya been givin' lil' broth'a?" he suggested, reaching for her ass, only to have her back up. Obviously amused by her attempt to get away from him he grinned before walking towards her. "Don't tell me yer afraid of lil' ol'Merle?" he said, laughing.

Hannah's heart was beating hard against her chest and her hands were trembling with fear of this man. The way he grinned as she backed up was a familiar sight, one that she had thought that she would be rid of for the rest of her life. Suddenly she came to a halt, unable to back up further. Her heart stopped for a split second as she realized that she had reached the wall of the little cabin they were in. She watched, terrified, as he came close enough for her to feel his warm breath. From experience, she had expected him to raise his hand and swing it but instead she felt him placed his hand on her chest.

"Don't touch me!" she said snapped, attempting to shove him away with her hands but with no avail. She briefly recalled how she had told Daryl that she wasn't the same weak girl he had known prior to the apocalypse. Had she lied to him? To herself? She had thought that she had enough strength to stand on her own ground when something like this would happen but her efforts seemed to be in vain.

"Ya always this feisty?" he said, amusement ringing in his words. "Didn't know Darlena like 'em to put up a fight. 'e really takes 'fter me."

"Daryl's nothing like you!" Hannah protested. "He doesn't lay a hand on me!"

"So yer one 'f dem gurls? Teasin' lil' broth'a?" Merle said, snaking his hand under her shirt. Hannah wriggled in an attempt to get away from this man but he was holding her in one place with his other hand. She closed her eyes, trying to tell herself that this wasn't happening. This was just a bad dream. A very, very bad dream.

"Com'n sweet cheeks, look at yer pal Merle," he instructed. "Ya don't want the lil' spic to get in'a acc'dent, do ya?"

Hannah's eyes fluttered open when she realized that he was referring to Pablo as _lil' spic._ She desperately wanted to smack this man for referring to her boy as a _spic_ but she controlled herself, knowing that if she did react he might actually go through with his threat. This man didn't seem like he was kidding around when he threatened her and honestly, she didn't want to risk him being serious. She looked him straight in the eyes, her moss green eyes exhibiting the fear that resided within her heart.

"'S more lik'it," he said, pleased with the sudden obedience. All he had to do was mention the little boy and she was silent and obedient. "Now how 'bout ya giv ol' Merle a nice lil' kiss?" The thought of placing her lips on to this man's was beyond revolting but in fear of Pablo's safety, Hannah slowly inched towards Merle, her hands shaking.

"Com'n, I ain't no toad ya'know," Merle said, reveling in the way she was heeding his orders. When she finally allowed her lips to touch his, he grabbed her and hungrily devoured her with his lips. He allowed his hand to wander in directions that would be considered shameful for anyone else to let their hands wander on a _first date_.

She didn't mean to, it was just a reaction to his hand on her breast, a flinch of some sort. "Fuckin' bitch." Those were the words she heard as his fist threw her down to the ground. "D'ya wanna get rid of the lil' spic? 'S that what ya want?" She tried to hold in the sobs that were choking up in her throat. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry. The side of her face ached terribly and she wondered how well it would show.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her head hanging low. She slowly stood up again and her arms wrapped around her own body. It had been the first time that anyone had touched her, skin to skin, in place that weren't usually visible. She had always felt ridiculous for being so inexperienced and now she hated herself for it. If she had been more used to a stranger's touch, she might not have bit him by accident. "I've never been…" she trailed off, not wanting to have to explain her to this monster.

"Yer a virgin?" Merle said, laughing. "Ain't ne'er had a man touch yer treasures?" he continued as he closed in on her once again. "Not e'en Daryl? Don't know why dat boy was hangin' 'round ya if ya don't give 'im some 'f dat." His hand grabbing her ass. His face was close to hers once more and this time Hannah was prepared for the sensation of his awful lips upon hers. She closed her eyes in horror as his hand slithered into her pants. Before he was able to do anything more she was saved by someone knocking at the cabin door.

"Your brother's here," a male voice announced, opening the door to the cabin. This caused Merle to look over his shoulder with a grin. "Tell 'im I'm finishin' up in 'ere," Merle said, the door closing promptly. He looked at Hannah as he took a step backwards. "Gimme yer panties," he commanded. She looked at him, confused at this command. After a while he seemed to get agitated and he repeated the comment harsher along with a threat directed towards Pablo. Hannah promptly took off her pants and pulled down her underwear, handing it over to Merle who snatched it from her before he went for the door.

"If ya make a sound, the boys have pe'mission t' come 'n shut ya trap."

With those words her left the cabin, leaving Hannah crying as quietly as she could. She found herself wishing for Daryl, hoping that he would burst through the door at any second. He had shown up, after all. Now all he had to do was help her the heck out of there so they could prepare to fight those bastards.

* * *

Daryl was more than pissed, he was furious. Of all people Merle could have abducted he had chosen to take Hannah, which made Daryl think that perhaps Merle had been watching them for a while. Either that, or Hannah had the worst timing. He felt bad, wishing that someone else had been taken but he couldn't deny that he felt that there were better people for Merle to have taken. Any man would fare better with Merle than the women.

"Where the hell 's he?" Daryl snarled impatiently. They had told him to sit tight while they went and got Merle. Apparently he was '_busy_'.

"Relax, lil' broth'a," a voice said, causing Daryl to turn to the side. He was met with the sight of the man who practically raised him. Whenever he was around that was. For a moment all the anger disappeared and was replaced with relief that his brother was alive despite the fact that he had a hand missing. It didn't take long for the anger to return but this time it wasn't as strong as it had been at first.

"Where the fuck is she, Merle?" he asked. The way Merle smiled when he asked the question told him more than he wanted to know. He had been with her. "Merle, what did you do to her?"

"Ain't what I did to 'er," he said, grinning. "Gurl couldn't keep 'er hands off of me. Ya didn't tell me she was such a feisty gurl." Merle pulled something partially out of his pocket, revealing something that looked like panties. Daryl's heart sank as he realized what Merle was trying to tell him. She had succumbed to his charms, then. He had liked to think that she would never have gone for anyone like Merle, anyone like him. She was supposed to be the kind of girl that would choose only the best for herself but he had been wrong.

The memory of the tracks that had indicated that she had been dragged and that someone was bleeding was erased from his mind by the insecurities that had kept him from acting upon the urge to touch her.

Merle, knowing that he was successfully playing with Daryl's insecurities stuffed the panties back into his pocket. The boy had always been a pussy, didn't matter how hard Merle had tried to teach him how to approach a woman _like a man_, Daryl had never taken to. Merle had considered it a god damn miracle when Daryl had taken him to the cabin in an attempt to save the redhead. He had liked to think that Daryl had already showed her the wonder of a Dixon but as he had discovered while talking to the ginger, he had hardly touched the girl.

"What, are ya jus' gonna stand there 'n look at me or did'ya come to speak business?"

"Merle, ya can't take over Nightingale. 'S our home," Daryl said.

"Yer home? Ya'll a big family now?" Merle said, offending by his brother's words. "Looks like ya done 'n gone forget who raised ya."

"I haven't forgotten," Daryl protested.

"Sure looks like ya have. Hanging around that damn group. Cops, niggers and spics. I ain't sure I know ya anymore."

"They ain't so bad Merle, not to me. We all keep one another alive. Don't matter what we are."

"Do'ya think they's gonna let us," Merle said, motioning towards the members of his new posse. "Stay in that town of yers?" After a moment of silence from Daryl's end of the stick, Merle spoke up again: "Didn't think so."

Daryl wanted to speak out, say something to Merle to let him know that he didn't give a fuck whether they wanted him and his crew to join the town. He sure as hell didn't want a bunch of lowlifes threatening the other members of the group. He would have put up with Merle hanging around the area, but only because he was his brother, not because he wanted him around. He found himself wishing that Merle had never escaped that god damn roof. They could have gone off on their own and prevented anything from happening to the rest of the group.

"Don't'ya worry, Darlena," Merle said, approaching his brother. "I ain't gonna make ya leave or that pretty lil' redhead o' _ours._" Daryl cringed at how Merle had referred to her as theirs, like she was some sort of object that they were sharing.

"Where is she?" he asked again, no longer fazed by the fact that Merle had her panties. The realization that he could have, somehow, forced them from her had taken far too long to come to Daryl.

"She's restin'. Wore her out, if'ya get me," Merle answered with a laugh.

* * *

The chair wobbled under Hannah's feet as she stood on it. Merle had left in such a hurry that he seemed to have forgotten about the fact that he had placed her weapons on top of a shelf that was easily accessible if she stood on the chair. She had allowed herself to feel sorry for herself for far too long. Even if she couldn't physically take on the man there was no reason why she should just sit in a cabin waiting for him to return. She had been expecting to see Daryl burst into the cabin, telling her that he was getting her out of there but after a good half hour, she had realized that she couldn't rely on him to come and save her.

As she wrapped her fingers around the handle of her rifle, the chair toppled over and she fell down to the ground causing a good deal of ruckus in the process. Luckily she had held on to the rifle with a tight grip which resulted in it coming for with her. The door to the cabin swung open and someone had begun to complain that she was making too much noise but before they got to say much more, Hannah had fired at the man, effectively shooting him down with a single shot. Another man appeared in the door and aimed his gun at her, only to be shot down before he was able to get his finger on the trigger.

She looked around, trying to find stripper clips for the rifle. "Fuck," she muttered to herself, realizing that he had only taken her rifle and not the ammo that had been sitting inside her house. Better for her in the sense that she wasn't out of ammo at home, worse for her since the stripper clip for her rifle contained only five rounds. Two of which she had already used.

* * *

"What the hell was that," Daryl asked, looking at Merle with an enraged expression. "Better not have been someone shootin' at Hannah," he threatened as he got ready to leap in the direction that Merle had come from. However he was forced to stop as a figure caught his eye, running down the hill, towards the road that was in sight. Her red hair was flying in the wind and she had a rifle in her hand. He couldn't help but feel proud of the fact that she had gotten herself out of whatever situation she had been.

As he got ready to run after her, he was stopped by Merle's word: "Where ya goin' baby broth'a? Don't tell me ya gonna follow 'er." Daryl turned to look at Merle, raising his crossbow so that he was aiming at Merle.

"Ya bet yer ass I'm gonna follow her," Daryl said.

"If ya follow 'er, I can't promise we ain't gonna shoot ya when we take over the town," Merle warned, hoping that his words would have an effect on Daryl.

But Daryl just turned around and began running after Hannah, forcing his feet to take him as fast as they could. Of course Merle had been lying about him and Hannah, there was no way that she would ever go for someone like Merle. Someone like him. He began to despise himself for taking his brother's word for even just a moment over the things he actually knew about Hannah. It didn't take him long to watch up with her. He grabbed her by the hand, stopping her from running any further.

"Hannah, ya 'kay?" he asked, concern written all over his face. He was surprised when she forcefully pulled her hand away from his. "Hanna?" he repeated her name, this time around his tone was begging her to say something to him.

"Why didn't you come?" she asked, her hands trembling as she turned around with a hurt expression on her face.

"What happened-" Daryl was met with the sight of the sight of her face bruising and swelling slightly.

"Why the fuck didn't you come for me, Daryl?"

"I had to talk to Merle. Convince him that-"

"There is no convincing that man," she shouted at Daryl. "I waited for you to come but you just left me in there!" Her voice was cracking and the tears were streaming down her face. She knew that it wasn't exactly fair to be angry at Daryl. After all, he had made it all the way up to the camp which must have meant something. But she was so angry at him because of Merle, for never telling her what a terrible person his brother was. She was angry at him for not marching straight to her and saving her.

"Hannah, I was tryin' to talk to him. Try 'n work things out," he said, reaching out to touch her once more, this time she flinched instead of moving away from his touch. His heart ached at her reaction, realizing that Merle must have messed her up real good. The thought of Merle putting a hand on her had Daryl seething.

"Try and work things out?" she finally said. "You were trying to work things out with someone who had threatened to kill us all if we don't leave them this town? Promising that he would kill at least some of us, even if we did leave?" She shook her head, trying to find the words that explained how angry she was at him. How hurt she was that he had been trying to work things out with that _monster_.

"I'm sorry Hannah, I didn't know…" he looked down, ashamed that he had believed Merle.

"Save it Daryl. I don't want to hear it," she said, stopping him from saying anything further. Not that he had any idea what he was supposed to say. He had always been at a loss for words when she had been upset. Usually he had just let her be upset, burn it off or cry, whatever she needed. He had never known what to tell her. Now he wished that he knew how to make things better; that he knew what the right words were.

"I just want to go home and see Pablo. Wash myself," Hannah said, feeling like she was disgusting. "And get ready to fuck your brother and his posse up," she added as she began walking briskly in the direction of the town that was now visible. Accepting the fact that he wasn't going to be able to make things better, at least not at this given moment, Daryl followed her quietly, allowing the guilt of not having gone straight to her to fester.

* * *

**A/n:** I hope you guys liked this chapter. It was a bit difficult to write at times, but I think I'm happy with it _for now_. Special thanks to all those who review. You guys are awesome!


	8. Chapter 8

It didn't matter how hard she scrubbed, how much soap she used, she didn't feel clean. She found herself thanking some invisible force that Daryl had come at the time he had. She was sure that Merle wouldn't have hesitated forcing himself upon her if that was what he had wanted. She looked down at her chest, which was now red as a result of her frantic scrubbing. She stood up and reached for the towel that she had claimed as her own and she wiped off.

Merle hadn't bothered checking in at Nightingale yet but everyone was ordered to be armed at all times, ready to shoot them down if they did decide to invade the town. Hannah had even brought the rifle with her into the bathroom, worried that he would show up while she was in the middle of cleaning up. She picked up the necklace that she had been wearing around her neck, studying it. She placed it back on the counter, besides the sink. To hell if she was going to wear it if others thought that it had been a gift from Daryl.

"Mama!"

The sound of Pablo's voice filled her heart with joy every time she heard it. He had been the first person she had seen when she entered Nightingale, which was a huge relief. The poor boy had been scared to death when he had seen her face, worried to death that she was seriously hurt. She tried to play it off as an accident with _bad men_, not wanting to scare him more than necessary. But she had given him a gun as soon as they entered the house.

"I'm coming," she announced as she finished putting on a tank top. She looked at herself in the mirror, realizing that some of the redness was visible. She pulled up the tank top so that it covered the irritated area before picking her rifle up and exiting the bathroom. She walked around the house, trying to find where Pablo was. It wasn't until she entered the main hall that she saw him standing with Henry by the front door.

"What's going on?" she asked, reaching for a stripper clip that was sitting on top of an end table. She had strategically placed them all over the house so that if she needed to, she could zoom right out and snag plenty of ammo while she was at it.

Henry knew that there was something that she wasn't telling them. If she had just been locked up and beaten, she would have said so plain and simply. Instead she said something about having an accident with one of the bad guys' fist. Given, she had been talking to the boy but even that was ridiculous. On top that all, she had come back with Daryl and stormed right into the house without so much as a word to the man. Henry wasn't exactly fond of the redneck but he had grown to appreciate the way Hannah looked at him. It was rather similar to the way she would look at Pablo, like she felt that he _belonged_ to her.

Perhaps that's why he couldn't bring himself to tell her that Daryl was waiting for her in the room. He didn't want to see how she was going to look at him now. She had spent the past two days either in the bathroom 'rubbing off the dirt' as she claimed or in her room, reading the fairytale book she had found for Pablo. Whatever had happened with Daryl's brother had a deep impact on her, causing her to pull herself into a shell. Henry hoped that whatever it was, Daryl could help her. She sure as hell wasn't going to tell Henry what had gone down. She might respect him but he knew that there wasn't a chance that he would hear even a part of it.

"I'm going to go play with Carl and Henry's going to walk me over," Pablo said, taking the lead that Henry hadn't been able to. "We just wanted you to know," he said, running over to Hannah and wrapping his arms around her waist. Hannah's mouth twisted into a melancholic smile as she bent down so that she could hug the boy properly, rifle still in her hand.

"Got your gun?" she questioned as she let the boy go, only to have him reveal it in a holster that had been fashioned for him. It had been ages ago since Hannah made it; she had wanted him to have something just in case he ever needed to carry a gun. "Stay safe, okay?" she pleaded, looking the boy in the eyes. He nodded before planting a kiss on the side of Hannah's face that was still intact. She watched as he ran back to Henry and the two headed out, Henry giving her a slight wave, the look in his eyes promising that he would watch the boy. It took Hannah a moment to collect her feelings and stop worrying about Pablo. She was convinced that Daryl's brother would stop at nothing to ruin them which translated to one thing: he would be willing to kill Pablo if he felt that it was to their advantage.

She went to her bedroom, ready to retreat into H.C. Andersen's fairytales. They were so real, even if they were fairytales. There weren't always happy endings, at least not the way you'd expect them. So far her favorite was the one about the Little Mermaid. She had been reluctant to read the story at first, being familiar with the story from Disney's point of view. But she had fallen in love with the fairytale and its bittersweet end.

She had been so absorbed in her excitement to read Andersen's fairytales that she didn't notice the man sitting on her bed right away. When she did, she seemed to jump slightly, surprised to see him. She had been purposely avoiding him in an effort to make the memory of his brother and yelling at him to go away. She was ready to turn around and leave the room when he stood up, which put her to an immediate halt.

"Yer all red," Daryl said, placing his hand on his chest to let her know what area he was referring to. He wasn't going to reach out and try to touch her after the way she had flinched last time he had tried to touch her. Her eyes wandered around the room, landing on everything in it other than him. "I'm sorry Hannah. Shoulda come for ya right away," he said, pulling the words from out of his memory. He had been thinking about the words over and over again, trying to find the right way to tell her how sorry he was.

"I was gonna go straight and get ya out of there. But Merle, he said-"

Hannah's eyes shot up and looked straight at Daryl, resulting in him stopping mid-sentence. "Said what?" she asked, wondering what the hell Merle could have said to get Daryl to stand there and talk for another half hour. If there circumstances had been any different she would have understood, family reunions and all. But she had been kidnapped by his brother who then made her write a note_ threatening_ the community that they had established. He needed a damn good reason for stopping to chat.

"Things, 'bout what you two did," Daryl finished, looking at Hannah and waiting for her reaction. He watched as she looked like she was about to blow up and a moment later her expression changed into something melancholic. His eyes followed her as she seated herself down on the bed and he took a seat next to her, all too familiar with the expression on her face. It was the kind of look she would wear when she had a new bruise to show off. Not that she ever said anything about it and he had never asked but he had always known that it had been her father.

"You believed him, didn't you?"

Her voice was a whisper and her words barely audible but he knew what she was asking. He wanted to tell her that he never believed Merle; that he had known better. But the way he had felt about her, how he had been afraid that she wouldn't ever touch him because of who he was had been used against her. Merle had shut him up by making him think that she had gone for Merle after a few hours together while she had never gone for him after a whole year spent together. He felt stupid, letting shit like feelings getting in the way of thinking clearly.

"Yea," he admitted sheepishly. "Shoulda known better but…" But what? He lacked so much confidence that he had jumped to the conclusion that she would have gone for someone like Merle? He glanced her way to see that she was upset by the fact that he had believed that she would do something with Merle. "He had yer panties," he said, finally setting on the most reasonable explanation. "Didn't figure until later that he coulda forced ya…"

"How could you think I would just throw myself at him?"

Her voice had a little more life in it now. She could tell that he didn't feel good about being wrong, but she had to know how he had made the mistake of assuming that she would have done something with Merle. It wasn't like he ever saw her throwing herself at any other guy. Before the apocalypse, he was the only one outside of her family that she had real, daily contact with.

"Don't know," Daryl said, his head hanging in shame. "I always thought ya'd only go for a nice guy 'n stuff," he muttered under his breath. "Guess Merle jus' knew how t'push my buttons."

There was a rather uncomfortable silence that took over. Under normal circumstances, Daryl would have welcomed the silence. But since he was trying to make things right with Hannah he couldn't stand the silence. "What did he do to ya?" It was a question that had been on his mind since she flinched as he had reached out for her. Even asking the question angered him. He felt that he wasn't supposed to have to ask a question like that, that it should never have to come up and the fact that it had meant that he had failed her.

"Nothing worth talking about," she protested, looking away.

"Ain't nothin' not worth talkin' 'bout, Hannah." He had allowed her to get away with telling him about her father all the time but he wasn't going to let her keep it a secret what Merle had done with her. He needed to know how bad Merle had messed up this time.

"He just hit me," Hannah said, not wanting to speak of the kiss that had been forced upon her and the way his hand had slithered into her pants just moments before Merle had been called to meet Daryl. "It's nothing, really," she said in hopes of convincing him to drop the subject.

"'S that right?" Daryl asked, raising his voice slightly. "Ya tellin' me that Merle didn't touch ya?" he asked, obviously suspecting that she was lying. She turned so that she was looking straight into his eyes.

"He didn't get that far, Daryl. You arrived before he was able to… _touch_ me," she confessed. His hand on her breast hadn't been as big a deal as his hand traveling towards her _treasures_, as he had called them. The things that he had said to her began to resound in her head, especially the things about Daryl. How he had suggested that she must have been giving something in order for Daryl to stay by her side, how he had been surprised when she revealed that she was a virgin.

Daryl was sorry that there had ever been a possibility that Merle would touch her. He had tried so hard to keep her away from Merle before the Walkers in fear that Merle would scare her off with the way he talked and acted. He had never worried about the fact that Merle would ever do anything to her because Merle was his brother and he had believed him to at least be a good enough man to leave someone like Hannah alone. Maybe he had been wrong about his brother or maybe being left on the rooftop had changed Merle.

"I'm sor-"

Daryl didn't get to say anything more before Hannah stopped him. "Stop apologizing damn it," she commanded. "It's not your fault, okay? I know I might have acted like it was, but you ain't got anything to apologize for."

"It is my fault," Daryl protested. "I wasn't there to stop 'im from takin' ya." Not that he was going to admit it to her, but he would routinely check on her if she was doing night watches, sometimes spending hours watching her, making sure that nothing went wrong. It was a stupid thing he did to calm his nerves since he was always sure that something would happen. He had checked on her the night Merle had taken her but not at the right times.

"Daryl, you're not responsible for me," she said. "I don't need you to take care of me at all times."

He wanted to though, he wanted to take care of her and make sure that she was safe. It was something that he had never been able to do before, take care of her. He watched as she came to him, day after day, with bruises that he would never ask about. When the apocalypse had struck he had failed to bring her with him to Atlanta. Now, when he thought he had a chance to do right by her and make up for all his past mistakes he had gotten her kidnapped and he failed to think of her first like a good man would have.

Their conversation was cut short as a gunshot sounded. Hannah was first on her feet, her rifle still in her hands. She didn't wait for Daryl to stand up too; instead she rushed out of the bedroom, Daryl only a few steps behind her. The thought of Merle returning had her bones shaking, figuratively. She burst out of the house, her rifle ready to shoot, only to discover the body of a Walker in the middle of the town. She looked around, trying to find the person who had shot it.

She smiled when she saw the familiar face that belonged to T-Dog, who was holding a gun. She nodded to him as if she were telling him that he had done a good job. She immediately lowered her rifle and Daryl followed her example, lowering his crossbow.

"It's been two days. Why the hell haven't they attacked yet," she muttered, using the sling that was attached to the rifle so that it was carelessly resting on her back. She walked towards the Walker and began examining it carefully, checking for things like jewelry. She made a mental note to herself that she had to remember to pick off the wedding ring off of the Walker.

"Might be tryin' to scare us off," Daryl said, answering her question. He had to admit that he was worried about the fact that they hadn't attacked yet. He had expected them to do it the same day that him and Hannah had come back to town, retaliate as soon as possible. A day had been the most he had expected to wait.

"Mind bringing the wheelbarrow?" Hannah asked, nodding in the direction of her house. As soon as Daryl turned his back to her she picked off the wedding ring, knowing that she wouldn't remember to do so later, when she didn't have someone in her company. She slipped the ring into her pocket before standing up straight. She offered Daryl a grateful smile as he approached with the wheelbarrow. As soon as he stopped she picked up the Walker under the arms and she heaved it towards the wheelbarrow, throwing into the barrow in a sloppy manner.

"They smell like shit," she said, her face contorting at the smell of Walker. It had been a while since she had last gotten up close and personal with a Walker, mainly because the walls were mostly complete and there was no need to be adding on to them.

Daryl allowed the corner of his mouth to rise in amusement at her pointing out the obvious. He agreed wholeheartedly, never understanding how she had managed to build up the walls on her own. The smell was enough to drive him crazy just by being close to him. The only time he had bothered to suck it up was when they had been looking for Sophia and he had cut up that damn Walker.

"I'll do it," he offered when she tried to grab the handles of the wheelbarrow. The smell was horrible, but being able to help her out was more important than being able to have a more comfortable smell present in his nose.

* * *

Pablo looked up at the old man, a bright smile resting on his lips. "I can't wait to show mama what Carl gave me," he said, holding up a small car model. The boys were getting along well despite the four year age difference. The time that they didn't spend together was used for various necessary activities. Carl had expressed his envy for the fact that Pablo was going to learn to hunt from Daryl. He had praised Daryl, saying that he was definitely the best hunter in the group.

Pablo was literally shaking with excitement as they began the short walk to their home. Not only did he look forward to showing his mama the car that Carl had given him, he also looked forward to seeing her and Daryl talking again. He hadn't seen how their meeting had turned out but he firmly believed that things would be okay between them. He had even tried to explain to Henry why they would never be angry at each other for long, how people who were friends like they were could never stay sour forever.

He wasn't going to tell anyone, but he had faith in their reconciliation because they reminded him of his mama and papa. It wasn't exactly the way they were but the way they acted around each other and the way they looked at each other that made him think of his late parents. That was why he had begun to feel like things were becoming normal again.

When they turned on to the street that they lived on, they were greeted with the sight of Daryl and Hannah sitting on the porch, neither of them talking but the two of them looking like everything had been resolved. Happy with this turn of events, Pablo began to run towards them.

"Mama! Look!" he said as he approached them, suddenly coming to a halt when he reached the steps. He handed the redhead the car model that Carl had given him and he watched as she examined it, reading the bottom to find out what model it was. "Carl gave it to me."

"1950 Chevy Belair, that is awesome," she commented, impressed that Carl had given Pablo a car model that was actually nice looking. She caught a side glance from Daryl that seemed to say _what you know 'bout cars?_ She refrained from telling him off. It was a justifiable glance though; she honestly didn't know anything else about cars other than the famous types like impalas and belairs. She even had a hard time telling what kind of car she was looking at, usually going with _ford_.

"Henry didn't believe me when I said I knew that you guys couldn't be mad for long," Pablo said, freely revealing that he and Henry had been discussing their relationship. He smiled when he saw the amused expression on Hannah's face and he could have sworn that he saw Daryl smile slightly.

Hannah looked past Pablo to see Henry wobbling down the road. She couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't told her about the fact that Daryl was waiting for in her room. There was no way that he hadn't known that Daryl was there, even if Pablo had been the one to let him in, the boy couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

"Take your time coming over here, why don't ya!" she shouted with a smile on her lips.

Henry was happy to see that Pablo had been right about the two of them. They didn't look like they were fighting at all anymore. He had always been the person who held a grudge so he always assumed that people were the same. If anyone ever made him mad at them, they could expect to have to work for his friendship once more but it seemed that Hannah was bigger than that. Either that or he was just someone she couldn't stay mad at.

"Hold your horses, young wo-"

Henry didn't get to finish his sentence. The shot didn't register in anyone's minds until the old man toppled over, landing on his side and rolling on to his back. Instantly the sense of wellbeing, of temporary safety was yanked from under their feet.

"Henry!" Hannah shouted, standing up and getting ready to dart in the direction of the old man's body. She was stopped by a pair of strong arms grabbing her, stopping her from going any further. "Let me go Daryl! I have to go help him!" she shouted, trying to break free from the grip that held her tight. The little boy, who stood next to her stared, shocked, at the scene that was present in the middle of the town.

The memory of his parents saying something reassuring, something that he could no longer remember, before being ripped into by Walkers resurfaced. Those deaths hadn't come out of the blue, although they felt like they had. Henry had just been tottering towards them and the next minute he was on the ground, dead?

"Ya can't go, Hannah. Someone shot 'im from afar," Daryl said in an attempt to calm her down. She finally managed to wrestle her way out of his grip but she didn't head straight for the old man, telling herself over and over again in her mind that if she did, they would shoot her too. She just stared at the body of the old man, hoping to see some signs of life. He had managed to survive for so long. They had gotten this far, how could he just topple over, dead, after all this time?

"Go inside," Daryl instructed the boy who just stood and stared at the body that was lying in the middle of the street.

Pablo looked at Daryl and nodded slowly before darting into the house. He felt the hate seethe within him for the bad men. They had been safe; they had finally been able to live a sort of normal life. Why did they have to shoot Henry, of all people? He slammed the door shut in anger before going to the only windowless room in their house, a bathroom, as Henry had told him to do if there ever was an attack.

"Get back inside!" Daryl shouted when he saw the door open at the house that Hershel and his family were staying in. They were across the street which meant that whoever shot Henry would have a clear view of them. A head peeked out from the door but quickly retreated once there was another shot. From the sound, no one did get shot.

"Henry! Henry, come on over here!" Hannah shouted as she noticed that the old man's body began moving.

Daryl looked at Hannah, wondering what the heck she was thinking. The chances that Henry had survived that shot were slim, especially since he had been lying motionless on the ground since he had been shot. He wondered how long they had been standing there, watching the old man's body. It felt like it had only been a short while but if he was coming back they could have been standing there for quite a while.

Slowly the old man's body began to rise up and there was no mistaking whether he was alive or… a Walker. The way he tottered over towards them was different than he had been doing before. The feet were shuffling and there was no friendly recognition in his expression. In fact it was empty. There was no expression at all.

"Ya gotta take 'im down, Hannah," Daryl informed her, motioning towards the reanimated old man. He looked at the redhead who seemed to simply stare at the Walker. Deciding that she wasn't going to do it he held out his hand. "Give me yer rifle."

Hannah looked away from the Walker and at Daryl. He was right; they had to take him down. He wasn't Henry, not the one that she had known anyways. He wasn't the same old man who had saved her and Pablo's life when they had been on the highway, watching as Pablo's parents threw their lives away. He wasn't the man who distrusted Rick, acted as a grandfather for Pablo or neglected to tell her that Daryl was in her room. He was no longer the loving father figure that she had never had.

She took the strip off so that she was able to hold her rifle properly. "I don't think he'd want you to shoot him," she said, pulling up the rifle so that she could aim properly at the Walker. She didn't shoot; she was waiting for him to come in closer. It took a while but soon he was so close to the porch that she could feel that Daryl was waiting for her to shoot him as soon as possible. Her finger on the trigger she couldn't help but think of the man who held Pablo as he cried for his parents.

She pulled the trigger, shooting down Henry just as he was at the foot of the porch.

As soon as she allowed the rifle to lower the tears began running and the sobs were choking up her throat. She backed up so that they were standing on the porch instead of on the steps. She tried to stifle the sobs unsuccessfully, one and one occasionally breaking through.

Daryl watched as she tried to compose herself, unsure what the best course of action would be. Since she was trying to keep it together, would offering her his embrace only make things worse or would they help? Should he leave her to her own accord and let her mourn for the old man? There wasn't going to be much time for her to mourn though. They must have shot the old man as a warning sign, to tell them that they were coming.

"Where's your crossbow?"

Daryl was surprised to see that she was taking the first step in getting ready. "'S at home," he said, revealing the pistol that he had with him. "I'm gonna get it," he said, placing a hand on Hannah's shoulder in an ill-timed attempt to console her. The redhead nodded, not saying anything in reply. He watched as she went down the steps and bent over the body of the old man. He found himself wishing that they had more time but he had to push the thought away as he ran over to his own _home_.

Hannah searched the old man's pockets and snagged the only piece of jewelry that he had on him. It was a bracelet that had a warning that he was deathly allergic to shellfish of any sorts. She pocketed it, happy that he had something that she could keep. "I'm sorry Henry, we should'a just stayed inside today," she said as she straightened herself out. She looked around to see the porch next to hers occupied by Glenn and Maggie, both of which had their weapons out. She walked over to their porch, her rifle in her hand.

"What happened?" Glenn asked, motioning towards the old man. It was obvious what had happened and Hannah was sure that they had all been looking out of the window, watching as Henry walked down the streets as one of those _things._ Maybe it was just a way for him to get confirmation that they were about to defend their town, that they were entering an unfair fight where they were likely not to survive, if what Merle had told her to write was true.

"They shot him," Hannah answered. "I think it was their way of telling us that they're coming." She watched as Glenn and Maggie shared a look, the kind that only two people could share and no one else would even begin to understand. She nodded to them before she bolted towards her house and into it.

Hearing that someone had entered the house, Pablo left the bathroom with the gun that he had been given in his hands, aimed higher than his line of sight. These people were adults and he had to be prepared to try to shoot a little higher than he would if it was a child. He let his hands fall to his side when he saw who had entered the house. He ran to her, throwing his arms around her when he reached her.

"Mama!"

This time, the sound of Pablo's voice filled Hannah's heart with dread. She had already lost one member of her family; she certainly didn't want to lose Pablo. When the boy pulled away from their hug she stood up straight and looked down at him. He was only eight years old but he was acting at least double his age. Maybe the maturity of Carl had rubbed off or maybe he had been growing up so much recently that she had just forgotten to notice that he no longer acted like an eight year old. Maybe it was just wishful thinking in her mind that he would always act his age in a world like this.

"Remember what Henry told you to do when the bad guys came?" she asked, receiving a prompt nod from Pablo. "Go there and stay there. Do not, I repeat, do not leave that bathroom unless I call your name," she instructed, hoping that the boy would listen to her. "I don't care what you hear. If you hear me screaming, don't come. If you hear the gunshots stop, don't come until I tell you to or someone comes and gets you. Do you understand me?"

Her heart was filled with fear at the prospect of this little boy getting in the middle of a fight between two groups of living people. She placed a kiss on the boy's forehead when he nodded and told her that he understood. She gave him a light push and watched as he ran back into the windowless bathroom. She went to their room and picked up the leather pouch she had found when she had been going through the closets in the house. It was big enough to carry at least twenty stripper clips, which meant that she would be able to have one hundred shots, including the four that she currently had in her rifle. If she was forced to use all those stripper clips, she would be out of ammo.

She prayed that she wouldn't run out of ammo, at least not until they had eliminated the threat.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Well, it was a love/hate thing with the whole Henry bit. Thank you all for being so lovely and commenting, favoriting and following the story! I love knowing that people are reading this silly little story of mine!


	9. Chapter 9

Hannah carefully put on the bracelet that had belonged to Henry. It was a silly sentiment but it made her feel like he was somehow still with her, that he was still supporting her decisions. She went straight into the bigger bathroom, the one where she had spent the past few days trying to scrub of that feeling that she was disgusting. She quickly tied up her hair, feeling that it was only going to be in her way. She picked up the necklace that she had left there earlier in the day and she put it on too. She smiled to herself wondering what they would think about her, if they saw that she was putting on jewelry while she should be ready to fight the men that were threatening to take over Nightingale.

But the memories that probably belonged to the items were going to make her feel at ease. The fact that someone had died with the items on them was comforting in the weirdest way. In Hannah's mind it went like this: somebody had died with them on before thus the next person to wear them would have better luck.

The sudden sound of gunshot caused her to stop thinking about why her luck had to be different than the luck of the previous owners of the jewelry that she was wearing. The time for her to face the one threat she thought she would never have to deal with, humans, was here. She picked up the rifle she had placed by the bathroom door and she headed straight for the front door. She didn't go out, but instead she peeked out of the peephole. She could see at least two men, both carrying shotguns.

Hannah bent down and went to the window where she was able to get a better view of the area.

Her heart stopped momentarily when she realized how many they were. There had to be at least thirty of them, although there was no way of telling for sure. There was no way that she would be able to just go outside and shoot them down. The odds were stacked against her. She began to regret not trying to get the whole group together when Henry had fallen. Individually they might be able to pick off the group one by one but being together was more comforting.

She moved away from the window and towards the back of the house, trying to think of a way for her to get into a more comfortable position where she wasn't at as much risk of getting shot down. She cursed to herself, pissed that she hadn't thought about this one bit. She had been so absorbed in feeling sorry for herself that she hadn't put much thought into what she was going to do when they came for the town.

She looked at the bracelet that was hanging loosely on her arm.

"Come on, Henry," she muttered, trying to think of what the old man would suggest to do. He had thought of hiding under the Walker corpses, which had saved the three of them. He had always been good at trying alternate solutions, thinking outside of the box. But because the group of men had to shoot him to give an example of what they were going to do, he had fallen.

Suddenly Hannah found herself wondering how they had shot him. They certainly didn't do it from the same level that he was one, the Wall would have blocked their sight. Inspired by this train of thought, Hannah looked out of the window that didn't face the entrance of the town. She noticed that the outside of the town had a hill which meant that whoever shot Henry had been at higher ground when he had shot the old man.

Higher ground!

It took Hannah only a few seconds to get out of the back door and before long she was climbing in an attempt to get on top of the house. She secretly thanked Pablo for choosing a house that was only one story. If she had had to try and climb through a window to get on to the roof, she wasn't sure that she would have been able to do it. She almost lost her grip at the sound of gunshots as they began raining. Someone had started the battle without her. She struggled to reestablish her grip, only to receive a sudden boost from below.

"Daryl!" she whispered, happy to see that he had returned. She offered the man a hand, only to have him quickly pull himself up without her help. She took the strap off of her shoulder so that she was able to free the rifle from the position it had been in. She wanted to say something to Daryl, something that was supposed to let him know how thankful she was that he was by her side. But since she lacked the words to describe how thankful she was, she crawled forward, trying her best to get her rifle into position.

The slope on the roof wasn't too hard to deal with since there were a couple of conveniently placed dormers that both she and Daryl could position themselves on. She cocked the rifle and pulled the lever that controlled the safety to the left so that she was ready to fire. She watched as someone shot down one of the men and she reminded herself that she had to hurry up and join in before it was too late.

"You don't fuck with us, you little shits," she muttered, allowing the anger to get the better of her. She pulled the trigger and managed to get one of the men. But as she continued to shoot, she realized that she had been lucky with her first shot. Shooting real live people was a whole other level of shooting. With Walkers they were at least consistent in their movements, always heading towards one target even if you didn't get them in the first shot.

If she missed a man he would move and try to take cover. By the time she had shot down another one, most of the others seemed to be in hiding. Not that that stopped the bullets from raining though. It seemed that no matter where they went, somebody was ready to shoot. She turned to look at Daryl, only to see someone standing in the street and aiming his gun at the man.

She quickly aimed her rifle and shot at the man, reacting quickly to the situation. However she hadn't reacted fast enough and Daryl fell down off of the dormer her had been sitting atop of. Hannah quickly put the safety on the rifle before she jumped off of the roof, hurting her foot in the process. She ignored the pulsating pain that was going through her leg as she approached Daryl.

She was relieved when she realized that he was conscious.

"Where did he get you?" she asked with a worried expression on her face.

"Whatcha doin' stoppin' by me? Don't ya got a town t'defend?" Daryl snarled, causing Hannah to back up slightly. As much as she wanted to help him out, she knew that he was right. Trying to take care of him would only mean that there were two less guns to shoot at the intruders. She motioned towards the backdoor of her home.

"Try and take care of yourself, okay?" she said, taking the safety once more off of the rifle. She wrapped the strap around her arm before raising the rifle. "Keep them from getting in if you can." With those words she ran out into the street.

Daryl managed to sit himself up before he began trying to study the shot that he had received. He had been lucky, since the shot had only hit his leg. Whoever that man that tried to shoot him was, he wasn't exactly the best shot. He must have had plenty of time to aim before Hannah had noticed him. Daryl looked at the street where Hannah had been standing a second ago, only to see it empty. The way she handled the rifle surpassed all of the expectations he had for her when he had taught her how to shoot in the first place.

It was difficult to imagine the girl he knew back then turning into the Hannah he knew now. He had always imagined that he would be the one telling her to stay while he ran out to kill the bad guys, if they would ever have gotten into the situation. But the fact that she had changed so much wasn't as disheartening as he had imagined that it would be, in fact it only made him all that more attracted to her. She wasn't just a pretty girl who needed his help to stay alive; she was a girl who could take care of herself, and him, if needed.

He forced himself to stand up and he began staggering towards the backdoor of her home.

* * *

Pablo knew what his mama had told him. He wasn't supposed to exit the bathroom under any circumstance. But how could he just stay in there when he could hear the heavy footsteps and the door slam shut? Did she want him to wait until someone opened the door to shoot? Under most circumstances he would have obeyed her but this felt like it was special. His life depended on whether the stranger would shoot through the door.

He slowly opened the door and peeked out of it, only to see a familiar figure in the hall. He immediately swung the door open and walked over to the figure, putting his gun back into its holster. "Daryl!" he said, obviously happy to see the man.

"Didn't yer mama tell ya t'hide?"

Daryl had no idea of what Hannah had told Pablo to do but he was more than certain that she would instruct him to stay out of harm's way. There was no way she would instruct him to run to someone's side if they entered the house, that much was sure. From the way Pablo looked down Daryl could tell that he had been spot on.

"Don't you need help first?"

Pablo had noticed from afar that Daryl appeared to be hurt but now that he was up close he could see that Daryl's leg was bleeding, bad. He didn't wait for the man to reply; instead he went and found the first aid pack that Henry had hidden in the oven. Both his mama and Henry had been firm that he had to know where the first aid was, in case either of them ever needed him to get it. He ran back towards Daryl with the first aid pack and watched as he began to take care of his own wound.

"Go 'n keep hidin'. Yer mama won't be happy with me if I let ya hang out where ya can get shot," Daryl commanded.

* * *

Hannah ran across the center of the town as fast as she could, praying that she wouldn't get shot. As soon as she reached the house belonging to Rick and Lori, she stopped to looking around. She nearly jumped out of her shoes as a shot barely missed her head by a few inches. She moved to the driveway and hid behind the small car that was sitting in the driveway. She quickly reloaded the rifle, using up her seventh stripper clip.

There were bodies all over the town now although, somehow, none of the belonged to the residents of Nightingale. She didn't know how they had managed to do it but they were going pretty strong in this fight. Perhaps it was the fact that most of them seemed to be shooting from inside their own homes that had given them an advantage. She hadn't seen anyone else on the outside so it seemed like a likely explanation.

Suddenly she heard a piercing scream coming from somewhere near the convenience store. Her stomach twisted at the thought of either Maggie or Beth getting shot. She held up her rifle and searched the area for one of the men that didn't belong in Nightingale.

She almost didn't see him, sitting between the garbage cans in the alley next to the convenience store. He was crouched down and too busy loading his gun to notice her. Knowing that she wasn't going to get a better chance at shooting him, Hannah looked through the scope and aimed as quickly as she could, pulling the trigger and landing a shoot that caused the man to fall down. She ran across the street and into the alley way.

She had hit the man in the chest and he was looking up at her, his chest going up and down as he struggled to breathe. She aimed the rifle at his head and pulled the trigger, killing him before he was able to die. She couldn't risk having him come back as a Walker. She heard a few more shots go off somewhere else in the town and she wondered whether it was long before they would finish these men off.

She looked back at Rick's house, only to see Rick standing by the side of the house with his gun held up high. She left the side of the now dead man and rushed over to Rick.

Rick wasn't going to get his hopes up, but he could have sworn that they had gotten all of the men that hadn't decided to run out. From the amount of the bodies that were lying on the streets of the town, he was almost certain that they had won, for now. He greeted Hannah with a friendly nod, unable to smile due to the scream he had heard earlier. He knew that it hadn't belonged to Lori, since she was still in the house, but that didn't dispel the pain of knowing that someone had gotten seriously injured.

There were a few minutes of absolute silence which convinced Hannah that they were indeed victorious. Then another gunshot rang, from a similar area where the scream had been heard, causing the redhead and the sheriff to rush to the scene.

"Beth!"

It was Maggie who was shouting. As soon as they got past the convenience store they were met with the sight of Maggie crying and continually petting the hair of the sixteen year old who was lying dead on the ground. Hershel was sitting on the porch steps, his hands buried in his face. What had happened was fairly obvious to both Rick and Hannah. Beth had been shot by someone and she had been unable to survive the shot, resulting in someone having to _put her down._

Hannah cursed herself for thinking that they would be fortunate to avoid any further losses.

* * *

"That's all of them," Rick said, standing in front of the large line of bodies that they had collected throughout the town. Twenty eight grown men, all of which had been shot down by the group. They were more than fortunate that they had managed to only lose two members of their community, compared to the fact that this group had lost twenty eight members of theirs. Statistically they should have lost at least a few more members, ones that weren't as proficient with guns as the others.

Hannah had looked at each and every body carefully, taking in the features of the kind of men that were willing to attack a small group of people for some place to say. But no matter how often she looked at the bodies, she wasn't able to find the one that she had been looking for.

"Ya'll been busy."

She looked up to see Daryl teetering towards them, his weight being supported by a pair of crutches. She noticed Hershel by Daryl's side, which made her feel at ease. She wouldn't be surprised if Daryl would have attempted to take care of the wound on his own, refusing any sorts of medical attention. She tried to smile gratefully towards Hershel, who had worked on Daryl (and everyone else who had received a bullet wound of any sort) despite the fact that he had lost his daughter. If she had lost Pablo, she wouldn't have been able to be of any use to anyone, at least that's what she felt like at the idea of losing the boy.

"We needed to get a body count," she answered. "Twenty eight men." She watched as Daryl began scanning the bodies, almost frantically. It wasn't too hard to figure out what- or who, he was looking for.

"He's not there," she said, answering the question that had been going through Daryl's mind. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disheartened by the fact that Merle wasn't in the group of the people that they had managed to shoot down. He was furious at how his brother had treated Hannah but Merle was still his brother, his _kin_. Once he was gone, Daryl was going to be the only Dixon left as far as he knew and that was an intimidating thought.

"He probably fled with the rest of them," Rick said. When he received a curious look from Daryl he had to retell what he had seen earlier: "Shortly after we began shooting at them, about a dozen of them began running in the opposite direction of the town, fleeing."

Daryl had opened his mouth to comment on what a pussy his brother had turned out to be but he shut it almost instantly, realizing that there was no reason for him to talk down to his brother to these people. They didn't like him in the first place and talking about him would only further aggravate them. He looked at Hannah in hopes of seeing what she felt about the matter.

He immediately recognized the emotions on her face as a blend of anxiety and melancholy. He reached out and placed his hand on her back in an attempt to make her feel a bit better.

* * *

The two of them sat at the dinner table, each of them picking at the unappealing mix of baked beans and tuna. They had been picking at the food for a good half hour, neither of them with much of an appetite after the events of the day. The boy looked up from his plate and at his mama, trying his best to smile to her.

"Can I go to bed?"

Hannah looked up from her plate and returned the boy's smile. "Go ahead," she said, pulling his dish closer to herself. She watched as the boy stood up and walked over to her. "Goodnight Pablo," she said, kissing the boy's forehead before pulling him into a hug. They stayed there for a few moments, relishing the feeling of each other's embrace. Pablo was the one that pulled away, his body unable to keep itself awake much longer.

Hannah watched as he disappeared into the bedroom the two of them had shared up until recently. As soon as she had gotten home from counting the bodies, she had made sure that all of the windows were covered by something, in an attempt to prevent the remaining men from breaking into their home. She wasn't sure if they'd be brazen enough to try and break into their home but she figured that she couldn't really be too safe. Not when there were men like Merle out there.

Once she had finished the content of her plate she left the table and headed for the bedroom that had belonged to the old man. The bed had been neatly made, something that she would have expected from Henry. The bedroom, like the one that she and Pablo had been using, was extremely impersonal. There was little that indicated that the old man had even stayed in the room besides the bag of clothes and the tent that he had been using sitting in the corner. Hannah picked up his bag and began going through it, item by item.

There were mostly clothes but at the bottom of the bag she found something interesting.

She picked up the sketchbook and began going through it. What was inside blew her mind. There were drawings of people that she recognized and the places that they had seen, each of them bringing up new memories. It was like he had been documenting their trip through his drawings. She couldn't remember having ever seen him draw, but it wasn't like she had always kept an eye on the old man. Her eyes began to tear up as she reached a drawing of her and Pablo sleeping together and from the way they were positioned she recognized it as one of the first few nights after Pablo's parents had died.

She had never known.

The last drawing was a picture of her, Pablo and Daryl, sitting out on the porch. Judging from the angle, Henry had been looking at them through the window when he had done the drawing. Not that she knew, maybe he was so good he could do drawings from his memory. She began looking behind each page, wishing that there was some sort of message from the old man. Much to her dismay there were only rough estimates of the dates and scribbles indicating what had happened each day. At the beginning of the book she found a short message, but it wasn't for anyone.

_The Apocalypse  
From the view  
of a Painter  
Visual Diary  
of Henry Barlow_

She put the book on the nightstand which was resting on the table and she took the strap off, placing the rifle by the bed. She laid herself down, taking in the fact that Henry would no longer be sleeping there. She looked through the door, into the room she shared with Pablo. The little boy was obviously fast asleep in the bed, worn out by the events of the day.

She closed her eyes, ready to go to sleep.

However the sound of the front door creeping open caused her to sit straight up and grab her rifle. Were they really going to return the same night? She walked into the hall, only to see Daryl standing at the end of it, his weight being supported by the crutches that Hershel had forced him to wear. She quickly put the rifle back by the bed before she met him halfway down the hallway.

"Didn't Hershel say that you were supposed to rest that leg of yours?" she asked with one brow raised.

"Couldn't rest knowin' ya'll were here alone."

It wasn't exactly a lie. He was worried that his brother would return and since Merle knew where Hannah lived, Daryl feared that he would go straight to her house. But he had also wanted to be with them and now that he had a legitimate reason to come and stay over, he fully intended on trying his best to take it.

"You know, I can take care of myself. And Pablo," Hannah said, more informing Daryl than protesting. The idea of having him stay with them, even if it was just for a while, was comforting. It would also help fill the void that was going to form without Henry.

"I know," Daryl replied. "I ain't gonna leave ya two alone though. Not until we know Merle won't be comin' back."

He watched as Hannah seemed to shrug, accepting the fact that he was going to stay with them. He didn't know what he expected but he definitely hadn't been expecting her to be so compliant. He looked around, searching for some place where he could sleep. Once he had found the couch he began heading towards it, having no intention of staying in the old man's bed or in the bed belonging to her and the boy.

"Where are you going?"

He looked down the hall to see her walking into the bedroom that had belonged to Henry. She motioned him to come and after a moment of thought he decided that he would do as she asked. If she was willing to have him stay in the old man's bed, he wasn't exactly going to protest. He slowly made his way down the hall and into the bedroom. He was surprised to see that she was already lying in the bed.

"I don't mind if we share the bed," Hannah said, noticing a panicked expression on Daryl's face. "Or I could do share the bed with Pablo, if you'd like. I just…" She just what? Missed the old man so much that she was sleeping in his bed.

"Nah, it's 'kay," Daryl said, making his way to the other side of bed. It didn't take him long to take off the crossbow and throw down the crutches. He had almost taken off his shirt when he reminded himself that he wasn't alone tonight.

She could feel him lay down next to her and she could have sworn that her breathing was ten times louder. It was silly, since this was Daryl. It felt like she had known him forever, so why was she getting all weird? She rolled around so that she was lying on her side, facing him. She was grateful that he cared enough about the two of them that he had decided to come over and stay there.

"Thank you, Daryl," she whispered as she closed her eyes.

"Ain't nuthin'," Daryl replied, trying his best to not look at her, lying in the bed as stiff as a brick. It was hard for him to relax with her in the bed. He spent the next half hour lying on his back, still stiff as a brick. It wasn't until he heard her snore that he was finally able to allow the muscles in his body to relax. He turned his head to look at her, smiling slightly to himself. He turned so that he was on his side, his injured leg lying on top of the other, and he reached out to touch her cheek.

She was incredibly soft and her cheek was even warmer than it had been the last time he touched her. He wondered for a moment what he must look like to someone else. _Prol'ly look like some damn stalker._ He retracted his hand and turned back so that he was lying on his back. He closed his eyes, only to have them open once something touched his chest. He turned his head to see that she had placed her hand on his chest and she had moved closer to him when he wasn't looking.

"Could get used t' this," he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes again.

* * *

**A/n:** I loved writing this chapter, perhaps it might have something to do with the last scene... I don't know, haha. But man, I realized that I have very little knowledge of writing action scenes when trying to write out the whole fiasco. Anyways, I hope that you all enjoyed! I, so far, really love writing this story.


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning: **Tiny amount of smut ahead. But only tiny. But I figure I should warn just in case!

* * *

_He couldn't tell how the hell it came to happen, but it was happening. The sheets were wrapped around the two of them as his hands began to explore her body. Every inch of her was soft as silk, like he had always assumed. He gently suckled on her breasts, kneading one softly while his lips pleased the other. He loved how she writhed under his touch, his lips._

_"Daryl," she moaned, the tone in her voice telling him that she was eager for more. "Oh god."_

_His hand traveled down her body, slowly inching towards the real treasures. She pulled him into a greedy kiss, the urgency of the kiss shining through, turning him on ever more. Just as he touched the moist area between her legs, she began to pull away._

_"Get off of me!"_

_She was shouting, pushing him on the chest, prompting him to get off of her as fast as he could. Somehow he was able to stand without any pain but he was too preoccupied with the sudden rejection._

_"Hannah?"_

_"You can't touch me there."_

_The glare that she was shooting him told him far more than he wanted to know. It was like he read into her mind and he was able to comprehend what had happened. Merle had touched her then and she had lied about it, to make him feel better. He reached out to touch her, only to have her back away frantically, as if she thought that he would ever hurt her._

_"Get away from me!"_

_He looked down, wondering what the odd tickling sensation that he was feeling on his chest. Much to his dismay, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then he noticed that it felt like his leg had completely healed._

That was when Daryl woke up, jerking his hands slightly in surprise.

Pablo withdrew his hands as he stared at the man who had been sleeping. He didn't look as intimidating while he had his eyes closed, which was probably one of the reasons why Pablo had been unafraid to touch the white marks on the man's chest. His mama had specifically told him not to enter Daryl's room until he was awake but Pablo saw no harm in doing so. After all, he had left the bathroom when Daryl was in the house and the man hadn't told his mama about that either. Not that he knew anyways.

"What the hell were ya doin' kid?"

He sure sounded pissed off, but that was how he usually seemed anyways so Pablo decided that he wasn't going to be afraid of the man. "I was just looking at your chest," the boy answered honestly. "You've got a lot of marks, all over," he said, pointing out the obvious.

Daryl pulled up the thin cover so that it covered his chest. He didn't need the boy to point out what he knew was there already. "So what," he answered before realizing that the kid wasn't trying to make him feel embarrassed or anything, he was just a kid pointing out the obvious. "They're scars," he said, giving Pablo the word he had been looking for.

"I knew that," Pablo replied as if he was offended. He hadn't been able to remember the English word for the marks but it had been sitting somewhere in the back of his mind. Henry had told him that some people didn't have good mamas or papas, that Pablo had been lucky. "Did you have a bad mama or papa?" he asked, allowing the curiosity get the best of him. He knew that it wasn't exactly something that people liked to talk about, but the man seemed to be tough enough.

Daryl stared at the boy in disbelief, unable to understand how the boy had just asked whether he had bad parents. He pulled himself up so that he was sitting, his chest fully visible to the curious boy. What was he supposed to say to Pablo? That he had a dead beat father and a brother that fluctuated between being the best and worst person in the world? He had no _mama?_

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about it," Pablo said, putting a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Henry says-" the boy paused, wondering whether it was wrong to say that Henry says things, instead of said. "Henry said that most people don't want to talk about things that hurt." He knew that feeling, even if he was just eight years old. When Carl had tried to inquire about his papa, Pablo had wanted to avoid talking about his parents. Eventually he had told Carl, only because Carl had told him about all of the stuff that he had seen.

"Mama didn't want to talk about her papa or mama either, since they're gone."

Talking about his mama reminded the boy what she had instructed him to do when Daryl woke up. He rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. The can was already sitting on the table, next to a bowl and a fork. He picked up the items before heading back into the room that now belonged to Daryl. He handed the man the bowl before attempting to open the can on his own.

Daryl had had little time to react to anything that the boy had said, since the boy didn't seem to have much patience for anything. He wondered whether, perhaps, all little kids were that way. Moving on to something else if the thing they were waiting for didn't respond fast enough. Not that he knew anything about it. Since he could remember himself he remembered having to be patient in order to learn how to hunt or track or something similar.

After watching the boy struggle in an attempt to open the can, Daryl reached out for it. It took him only a moment to tear the lid off of the can. The label had been removed from the can so Daryl had no idea what he was getting himself into when he opened the can, however he was pleasantly surprised to see that the can contained peaches. Given, they weren't fresh Georgia peaches but they were as close to juicy, delicious peaches as he was going to get for the time being. He carefully poured the contents of the can into his bowl, filling it with both juice and peaches.

"Where's yer mama, anyways?" he asked as he shoveled a mouthful of peaches into his mouth.

"She's out."

"Doin' what? Ain't like her to just leave the house with ya still here."

"She said she was going hunting."

"With who?"

"Don't know. Think she went on her own."

Daryl was frustrated at the news that Hannah had gone out by herself. How dumb could she be? Didn't she realize that his brother was still somewhere out there, possibly waiting for a chance to get any of them on their own? She could have at least told him too, not just leave the kid to sit around and watch over him, or whatever the kid was doing when he handed him the bowl and peaches.

_Don't need no company t' keep myself happy._

He thought to himself bitterly. The only reason why she was allowed to hang around him all day while he was resting (as directed to by Hershel) was because she didn't spend every second trying to converse with him or askin' dumb ass questions like the rest of the group did. He glanced at the boy, thinking that he wasn't as bad as some of them were. The fact that he was a kid and there was no filtering through his words was both a good and bad thing. The kid wasn't going to act a certain way in order to please Daryl but he wasn't going to watch his mouth either.

"Typical woman," he muttered as he swallowed another mouthful of peaches. He looked at the boy who seemed to be staring at him questioningly. "Why don't ya go do somethin' else? I don't feel like talkin'."

_Don't be offended if he doesn't want to talk, Pablo. Remember, not everyone feels like talking to you all the time._

The boy reminded himself of the words that his mama had told him earlier that morning as he left the bedroom in order to get something to occupy his mind. He was supposed to make sure that Daryl wouldn't have to stand up until his mama got home and that was exactly what he intended to do.

Daryl was relieved when he saw the little boy leave the room. He placed the bowl of peaches on the bed as he reached for his shirt, feeling uncomfortable with the fact that it had been examined by the boy. He slid into the shirt without much problem. As he shifted around in the bed to get into a better position he felt something wet touch his hand.

"Fuck!" he cried out, picking up the bowl of peaches, trying to save it from losing any further liquid. He looked back up at the door to see the little boy standing there with a book. For a brief moment, the boy seemed to be surprised by his language and the next he was taking a seat next to Daryl in the bed. He watched as the boy opened up the book.

"Anythin' good?" he asked, sincerely curious about what the kid was reading.

"Yeah, I like these fairy tales," Pablo said as he looked away from the book that contained endless fairy tales. "They're really weird sometimes."

Daryl nodded and began listening as the boy read out loud one of the many stories:

"There were once five-and-twenty tin soldiers, who were all brothers, for they had been made out of the same old tin spoon."

* * *

A whole day's worth of hunting and all Hannah had been able to come up with was a rabbit she had managed to shoot from affair and a couple that had been caught in traps that she had laid down. Three rabbits in total and while it wasn't exactly a grand catch, it was better than catching nothing at all. She looked at the catch of the day with a dejected expression on her face as she made her way towards the pickup.

She knew that no one would be making a big deal if there wasn't any meat while Daryl was resting but she was well aware that there was a dire need for a change in most people's diets. Lori especially had to be consuming something other than canned food all the time and since there was no place where they could buy the kind of foods she needed, they had to make-do with the things that they could gather.

The redhead couldn't help but wonder how things were going back at the house. She was sure that Pablo wouldn't exactly be the kind of company that Daryl wanted around but she couldn't bring herself to have Daryl wake up to no one in the house. There was no knowing how he would react so she took the safest approach: she made sure that Pablo was at least there when Daryl woke up. If neither of them wanted to spend time in each other's company, Pablo would be free to go play with Carl. She had already talked to Lori about the possibility that Pablo would come over.

She sighed, more than exhausted from sitting around all day waiting for something to appear. Hunting was a tedious activity which she usually managed to pull through with the company of Pablo. She couldn't help but near squeal with joy when she saw the pickup, only to have her joy crushed when she noticed a couple of figures surrounding the pickup.

"Damn it," she muttered, bending down and ducking behind a tree in hopes of going unnoticed. She wasn't going to risk exposing herself if the group of men happened to be the same that had invaded Nightingale the previous week.

"Isn't this the car from one of them Fighting Ale people?"

"Sure looks like it."

Hannah listened intently as they began talking about the car, the conversation eventually leading up to her. She couldn't help but wonder how long they had been watching them. If they were able to connect the pickup to her, they must have been watching them for a while, since she hadn't exactly used it a lot the days before she had been kidnapped. Heck, she couldn't even remember using it at least three or four days before.

Her heart sunk when she heard one of them talking about just taking the car. She had gone further away than she usually would because she had access to the car and there were plenty of people to stay in Nightingale. If they took her car, she wouldn't be able to make it back until at least the next day, at the rate that the sun was coming down. She cursed herself for leaving the key in the ignition. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, it wasn't like there were a lot of people left in the world to steal her pickup.

She scowled when she heard the sound of the pickup starting and hooting of the men who were obviously happy that the car worked just fine. She listened as the car drove off. _You got yourself in a real fine mess this time, Hannah._ She thought to herself. The bright side was that she was at least alone. She hadn't put Pablo in the unnecessary danger of having to go through a whole day out in the forest.

After staying in hiding for a while longer, Hannah decided that she had to at least try to shorten her trip slightly. She began making her way back to Nightingale, her rifle strapped so that it was resting on her shoulder and the rabbits in her hands. She couldn't help but wonder whether she would actually be able to use some of the meat. She wasn't exactly sure how long she could wait with the rabbit but she vaguely remembers Daryl mentioning something about how he hung them up for a night.

She trekked for a good two hours before the sun had pretty much fun down all the way. There was only enough light for her so that she could make out the outlines of a tree so that she could climb it.

* * *

Daryl had been surprised by how long he had sat, patiently listening to the boy reading the fairy tales that were in the book. Pablo was a slow reader, which was something Daryl could relate to, but he made sure to say every word clearly making it easier for Daryl to understand. Although he enjoyed some of the fairy tales that the boy had read to him, he had liked the first one the most.

_The Brave Tin Soldier_.

He repeated the name of the fairy tale in his mind, trying to make sure that it would stick in his mind. There was something in the fairy tale that he had been able to relate to. It wasn't preachin' to him about God nor was it teaching him a moral lesson. It was just about a defective tin soldier.

"Why don't ya go out and check how late it is," he suggested, looking at the boy who had just finished yet another fairy tale. Pablo nodded before obediently climbing out of the bed and running down the hall. Daryl was glad that Pablo was far more obedient than Carl seemed to be. The last thing he needed was to babysit some kid while he was supposed to be "restin'" his damn leg.

Soon enough Pablo returned with an update: it was already dark outside.

"Did ya see yer mama?"

The boy shook his head.

_Ya gotta be fuckin kiddin me_ Daryl thought as he forced himself to get out of his bed. He grabbed the crutches and began making his way around the bed. He ignored the boy telling him that he was supposed to be lying in bed until his mama came. If it was dark outside and Hannah wasn't home yet, her returning soon was definitely not likely.

It didn't take Daryl long to get out of the house and down to the center of the town where some of the group was gathered, as they usually did in the evenings. He wasn't much for social gatherings but Hannah seemed to view them as an important part of living in Nightingale. That somehow it made things more normal.

"What are you doing out of bed? You're supposed to be putting as little pressure as possible on that leg for at least another week," Hershel said once he noticed Daryl approaching them on the crutches.

"Any of ya'll seen Hannah around?" he asked, ignoring the old man's complaining.

"I haven't seen her all day," T-Dog stated with a worried expression on his face.

"She told me she was going out hunting," Lori said, surprising Daryl with the fact that she had been notified. "She isn't back yet?"

"Does it look like she's back?" Daryl said, a little too loud for Lori's taste. He looked at everyone, getting more pissed off as he realized that the majority of them didn't even seem that concerned. "Ya'll just gonna keep on havin' family time like she don't even matter?" he shouted.

"We're all worried, Daryl," Rick said, trying to calm the redneck down. "But there's not much we can do right now. It's dark and we don't know where she went. She took the pickup so we can only assume that she's at least safe from the Walkers. We can search for her first thing in the morning, tomorrow, alright?" he offered. To be honest, Rick hadn't given much thought to Hannah's absence. He had just figured that she had returned from hunting and went straight to Daryl's side. Ever since he had been ordered to rest in bed she had spent far more time away from the group than normally.

It had become a popular topic between him and Lori, her usually the one who initiated the conversation. She seemed to like the idea of the two of them together. He didn't exactly see it happening with the way Daryl was. Even if he treated her different than he treated anyone else, trying to imagine him making a move on someone was rather farfetched, no matter how close they were. But Lori was adamant that it was only a matter of time before Hannah was able to 'tame' Daryl.

"Ya bet yer ass we'll be searchin' for her tomorrow," Daryl said.

"Not you Daryl, you should be resting, like Hershel said."

Daryl knew that Rick was right. Already his leg was killing him from the slightest pressure and he honestly didn't want to go through the same things he had gone through while looking for Sophia. Hannah was different though. She wasn't a defenseless twelve year old lost in the woods; she was a twenty three year old equipped with a rifle and the skillset that was required for her to survive on her own in the wild. Theoretically, she should have been able to survive indefinitely on her own if she had enough ammo.

"Ya'll better not do a half-assed job just 'cause I ain't there," he warned them before he headed back for the house that belonged to Hannah and Pablo. He was pissed off at the group for not reacting as hard as he would have wanted to the news of Hannah not having returned but he was even more pissed off at Hannah. What the hell was she thinking, going out hunting on her own only a week after they had been attacked by the group his brother belonged to? Not to mention the fact that she had been kidnapped shortly before that.

She was leaving the boy in his care until she was able to return, which currently didn't look like it would be anytime soon.

When he entered the house again, he was greeted with the sight of Pablo, who was looking at him as if he was supposed to tell him what he had found out. He usually didn't feel sorry for people, but know that she was all that the boy had left, Daryl couldn't help but sympathize with him.

"Yer mama's not comin' back t'night," he said as he made his way into the kitchen. "She'll be back soon, she won't leave ya alone with me for long," he promised. He took out two cans of baked beans and two spoons. He opened up the cans and handed one to Pablo and watched as the boy devoured the dinner. It was difficult to believe that they hadn't had anything to eat since in the morning, both too absorbed in some silly fairy tales.

For some reason he was having a hard time believing the words he had said to Pablo. Even though he was sure that Hannah was going to try her best to get back to them, something told him that she wasn't going to be coming home tomorrow. He shrugged it off, trying to convince himself that it was just the fear of her dying "_again._" The last thing he needed was to be stuck taking care of the boy and _playin' papa_ with him. He wanted to leave that kind of stuff for Hannah.

* * *

**A/n:** Soooo, I hope you all liked this chapter! I just wanted to take the time and let you know that this weekend I will be updating VERY little, if much at all. I will at least very likely not update on Sunday and possibly Saturday. I'm leaving for Iceland on Sunday so the last few days here might be hectic, but I have no way of really being sure if I will actually be busy... But rest assured, I will continue updating whenever I have the time. Just wanted to let you know that it might not be very regular this weekend.

(For those who are reading my other story, _A Simple Twist of Fate_, that is very likely the reason why I haven't updated today. I'll try to update that one at least tomorrow.)


	11. Chapter 11

Her feet were aching and her stomach was begging her to eat something. She hadn't expected to be stuck out in the wild for so damn long. Hannah stopped momentarily to stretch her back. The tree she had managed to fall asleep in for a few hours had been hell for her body, causing it to ache constantly. It hadn't helped that she woke up in the morning to the sound of a dozen Walkers gathered around the tree, one of them chewing on one of the rabbits that she had caught the previous day.

Hannah reached for the two remaining rabbit carcasses, both of which hung around her shoulder. The hunger had been gnawing at her for at least a few hours and she knew that the less she ate, the more dangerous staying out in the woods would be. She had tried to remember the dangers of eating raw meat but could only come up with the fact that she had been taught to cook chicken through. Rabbit hadn't exactly been a meal of choice when she lived with her father.

Unable to contain her hunger any more, Hannah sat down and promptly began to cut the rabbit open. The sight of all the blood made her stomach churn but she closed her eyes, telling herself that it was worth it. God, she couldn't remember ever being this hungry. She had always been able to have something, if not just a small can of food. This was the first time that she actually felt physical pain from hunger.

Having convinced herself that it wasn't that bad, Hannah opened her eyes and began using the knife to cut out pieces of the rabbit. Her face contorted as she tried to chew the meat. If her stomach hadn't been empty, she would have needed to empty its contents. She was reminded of the fact that she was supposed to bleed out the rabbit before cutting it up as the blood swooshed around in her mouth.

It took her a good half hour but she managed to force down quite a bit of the rabbit raw. The way her stomach was aching suggested that perhaps being hungry had been a better option than trying to force down the rabbit. She stood up, picking up the remaining rabbit as she did so. She looked at it, her stomach twisting at the thought of having to have raw meat again.

She couldn't help but be thankful for the fact that she had decided to leave Pablo with Daryl. While hunting the previous day, she had questioned whether it was a good idea. Daryl wasn't exactly someone who would take well to a child and she feared that Pablo would be hurt that she didn't take him out hunting. Sparing Pablo from having to eat raw meat and constantly stay on his feet was definitely worth him and Daryl not getting along while she wasn't there. She had a hunch that they would make it work, especially since she was lost in the woods. She had found out that when people had similar sets of worries, they had a tendency to forget their differences or any quarrels that had come up.

Her hand automatically travelled up to the necklace that hung around her neck and she fondled it absentmindedly as she kept on walking, hoping that she was going in the right direction.

* * *

Daryl was more than pissed at the fact that no one had noticed Hannah's absence before he had pointed it out and he sure as hell didn't keep it to himself that he was pissed. He had spent the previous evening ranting loudly about how dumb and useless the group was, unable to notice whenever the hell people went missing. He would have continued to do so in the morning, had it not been for the dejected expression on the boy's face.

He couldn't blame the boy, really. If he was in Pablo's footsteps, he'd be pretty damn sad too. She had become the boy's mama and while Daryl's had noticed it right away, she really took the part to her heart. If they weren't so damn different lookin' and if Daryl didn't know better, he would have assumed that was the boy's biological mother from the way she treated him. Sometimes he even felt like she was doing a better job than Lori was. Pablo wasn't sneaking around like Carl was beginning to do.

"Whatcha readin'?"

Pablo had been sitting next to him in the bed since the moment that he woke up. Daryl had been irritated at first since this time around, the boy wasn't even going to read the story out loud but he couldn't say anything to the boy in fear that it would piss Hannah off. The boy looked at him, his wide brown eyes telling Daryl more about how the boy felt than he wanted to know.

"_The Little Mermaid_," Pablo answered. It surprised him that the man had asked. They had been sitting in silence through at least four different stories. He honestly didn't mind, Carl had told him how Daryl hardly ever spoke to anyone unless he needed to. It was just the way he was made.

"Ain't that a girl's story?" Daryl retorted, quickly realizing that it had been a poor choice of words. He was talking to an eight year old, not an adult. "I mean, er-"

"You don't have to say you're sorry," Pablo interjected. "The movie is for girls but fairytales are for everyone, you know." Daryl nodded slightly, indicating that he understood what the boy meant. It was hard to believe that this eight year old was protesting Daryl's words in such a calm and collected manner. "It's different than the movie though," Pablo said, unable to leave the matter be. "Mama said that this one has a real ending, instead of everyone being happy."

Daryl nodded, turning his head away from the boy. Real ending, what the hell did that mean? It wasn't like mermaids actually did exist and things like that happened, Daryl was sure as hell of that. He tried to imagine what the movie had been like but not having seen it meant that he was unable to picture something more than the typical Disney movie where a princess marries a prince.

"How does it end?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I don't know, I haven't finished it," Pablo said, looking at the man next to him. Seeing the curiosity on the man's face, he decided that he would read out loud, like he had done the day before.

_""If human beings are not drowned," asked the little mermaid, "can they live forever? Do they never die as we do here in the sea?""_

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door, causing the little heart belonging to Pablo to jump with excitement. Daryl watched as the boy practically threw the book down before he rushed for the door. Happy that he had been wrong, Daryl picked up the crutches and forced himself to get up. He took as much care as he could to avoid putting pressure on his foot.

"'Bout time ya got home. Me 'n Pablo been waitin' all damn day," he said as he peeked out of the room towards the front door, only to see a face that he hadn't been anticipating.

She watched as his expression changed from something that resembled happiness into a sour expression. She should have guessed that she wouldn't exactly be welcome. It wasn't like they were close or anything. Even if he had done good by her, he still seemed to be rather apathetic about her existence. She looked down at the boy who was standing in front of her, obviously disappointed with the fact that she was in fact, not, his mama.

"Carl's been waiting for you to come out, Pablo," she said, trying to mask the fact that she was disappointed with how things were turning out.

Pablo turned to look at Daryl, only to receive a nod. There was no need for him to ask if he could go out, it was just a polite gesture. The man had no real authority over the boy and both of them knew that. Pablo gave the man a toothy grin before he wiggled past the woman and ran out, only to see his friend waiting for him on the porch on the house opposite of his.

"What d'ya want, Carol?" Daryl croaked as he made his way to the front door. "Ya better not have any news fer me if it ain't good news," he warned her, causing the woman to smile sympathetically. Damn it, he hated how she sometimes acted like he was to be pitied. How she acted like everyone else was a poor child that needed her to make them feel better.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay," she began as she let herself in to the house, much to Daryl's dismay. "You've been cooped up in here for a week and now that Hannah's missing-"

"I don't need yer pity, Carol," he snarled. Why did she have to make him feel like he wasn't able to handle being on his own? "I got good company here and Hannah ain't missin', she just done 'n got herself lost in the woods. She'll be back soon."

The last part was more for Daryl than for her. He wanted to think that she would be back home that evening, that she had only decided to stay out longer in order to try to get a bigger catch. No matter how hard he wanted to believe that, he wasn't able to.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this, Daryl," Carol said, ignoring how he had reacted to her sympathy. "It must be hard to have her keep on disappearing like that once you finally found her again."

She could have sworn that her shoulders felt a bit lighter once she had opened up the conversation to where she wanted it. She had wanted to talk to Daryl about his relationship with Hannah, wanting to tell him that she knew that Hannah was the girl he had been talking about when he said that he might have been in love once. She had seen the way that he looked at her and she certainly noticed how he treated her differently from the rest of them. He wasn't the cold Daryl Dixon that the group was so used to. He seemed to become the Daryl that she had seen when they were searching for Sophia.

"Again? What the hell are you talkin' 'bout woman?"

Carol sauntered behind Daryl as he made his way into the kitchen. The irate manner in which he spoke convinced her that her assumptions were spot on. "I think you know what I'm talking about."

Daryl didn't bother looking at Carol as he retrieved a can of pineapples from the cupboard. He knew what she was talking about but that didn't mean that he wanted to talk about it. The fact that she had the nerve to come to _his_ house and talk about_ his_ friend pissed him off. The fact that Pablo still had a paragraph or two of the _Little Mermaid_ left added more frustration on top of everything. He sat down, opened the can and began lazily picking out the pineapple, determined to not answer her.

"It's not hard to see," Carol continued, sensing that Daryl wasn't going to reply to her. "The way you held her when she first saw you. You don't treat her like a stranger. You're not keeping her at an arm's length so that she doesn't get close to you." All these things had been so obvious to her, as of late. The fleeting thoughts that she had had, the ones where she would change him into a happier man, had been dismissed when she realized that there was someone else better suited for the job.

"But you know, she isn't going to wait forever. I'm not saying it will happen, but there might come a day when someone comes along who isn't afraid to show her how much they care about her."

Daryl looked at Carol, momentarily, his eyes meeting hers for a second. A moment later and they were once more focused on the can of pineapple. He didn't reply, not wanting to have her believe that he was paying any attention, but her words began to settle in his mind. He had somehow never really thought about someone else telling Hannah that they cared about her.

She hadn't been around other people much before the apocalypse; she had made sure that he was well aware of that. She lived in an isolated area with _very _few neighbors. She had been homeschooled by her father (although Daryl had a suspicion that her father had taught her very little) and she didn't do much else than loaf around the woods. There had never really been a chance that someone else would take an interest in her simply because of the fact that there was no one else.

"She won't wait forever, you know."

_Wait?_

Daryl looked up at Carol once more, although this time he didn't look away. What the hell did she mean that Hannah wasn't going to wait forever? It wasn't like she was going to feel the same way about him. He was the kind of guy that she would depend on when she needed something, the kind of guy that she would go to when she wanted to learn how to survive. A girl like her couldn't possibly go for someone like him.

"She ain't waitin' fer nuthin," he said, finally deciding that Carol was just trying to make him feel good or something stupid like that. He opened his mouth for a second before closing it back up again. It would be stupid to tell Carol that he wasn't the kind of man that Hannah was supposed to end up with. Knowing Carol, she would tell him that he was good enough, just as good as Rick is qualified to be with Lori or Glenn was qualified to be with Maggie.

Not that Rick and Lori were a good example. Lori had been bumping uglies with Shane before Rick came back and even afterwards she seemed to be a bit weird around Rick. No way did Daryl want to go through something like that. Especially with Hannah.

"How do you know she's not waiting for you?"

* * *

She couldn't bring herself to use her rifle more than she needed in fear of Merle's group passing by. She had no choice but to shoot the Walkers that had gathered around the tree she had been sleeping in, since there had been no other way for her to get out of the tree but she wasn't going to waste a bullet on a Walker that was standing a few feet away from her. Hannah lunged forward with the knife in her hand and she attempted to stab the Walker in the eye.

"Shit," she muttered as she took a step back. Taking down a Walker feeling like you're about to return your food at any second was way harder than she had anticipated. She took another shot, lunging forward and this time she managed to land the knife in the Walker's face. While it reacted to the knife, she used the time to push it down, getting on top of it as fast as she could.

As it tried to bit her hand she retracted the knife before thrusting it down into the Walker's forehead, killing it immediately. Despite the obviously dead Walker in front of her, Hannah kept the knife lodged in its head for good measure. She made a mental note to _not_ cut up another rabbit and eat it raw since the knife was contaminated and she had no way of cleaning it.

After a few minutes she pulled out the knife and put it back into the sheath that was tied on to her belt. She slowly got off of the Walker and she began looking at the contents of its clothes.

"Bingo," she muttered to herself as she pulled a necklace with a cross on it. "Where's your god now-" she paused to open up the wallet that she had found in his pocket. "Benjamin?" she finished, her attention drawn to the wallet.

This was the first wallet she had found, igniting her curiosity. She rummaged through it, studying every detail carefully. The man's name had been Benjamin Smith, average name and very likely an average person. His driver's license told her that he was from Florida, an organ donor and he shared the same birthday as she did, but he had been born seven years earlier than her. He had a BestBuy Rewards Card and a Starbucks coffee card.

Those things weren't the things that really intrigued her. It was the pictures of the three children and the woman that made her wish that this man was alive. The children were all young, the oldest looking as if he was about ten years old. Two girls, one boy. Hannah looked behind the pictures in hopes of finding names.

_Adrian. Sandra. Victoria._

She stood up and pocketed the wallet for some bizarre reason. She looked at the Walker and suddenly she felt a melancholic feeling surface within her. He had been a father and someone special to the people that he had pictures of. He had gotten himself bit and he had died because he hadn't been careful enough. It occurred to Hannah that if she wasn't careful, she was going to get bit and she'd wind up in his position eventually. There would be no evidence that she had someone she was leaving behind because she didn't have her own wallet.

Not that it mattered. All that mattered now was that she would get home so she didn't leave the people she cared about on their own.

* * *

**A/N:** sorry it has taken so long. I got home yesterday and I was dead tired! by the time I woke up I had guests coming and such. This chapter is a bit short, I'm sorry! I'm hoping the next one will be a bit longer but at least I'm updating! Thank you guys for being awesome and a special thank you to those who follow/fave and comment! It means a lot to me!


	12. Chapter 12

It was her third day out on her own. She cursed herself for deciding to go out hunting at that time. She couldn't stand the fact that she had taken her sweet time untangling that last rabbit from the trap. If she had done either of those things differently, she wouldn't be walking in the damn woods chewing on bark in an attempt to fill her stomach. It didn't have the same amount of flavor as the rabbit had but it sure tasted about a thousand times better. She had been relieved to wake up to a settled stomach and she figured that she was finally out of the clear.

Her feet ached and she could tell that she was going to have blisters. Perhaps she could have worn a more durable pair of shoes, instead of settling for flats. It felt like she had made a lot of dumb decisions recently. There were so many things that she could have done differently in order to change the course of things. That's why she had to do things right this time, so that she wouldn't end up like Benjamin Smith had.

Dead.

The sudden sound of a car made her stop dead in her tracks. She scanned the area, trying to spot where the sound came from but came up with nothing. Keeping in mind that she had to stay alive, she jumped down a small ledge that had been sitting in the ground. There was a small dent under the ledge which she was able to crawl into, hiding her from most of the area.

Hannah held her breath, as if it would help her remain hidden from whoever was driving the car. She listened carefully, trying to pinpoint the location of the car. But with her lack of skills, she was only able to determine that the car was _not_ heading in her direction and with her eyes she was able to deduce that it was most likely not in front of her. The sounds from the car lasted only for a while before it began slowly disappearing.

Hannah liked to think that she had recognized the sound of the gears being changed and the way the car would sound when someone turned the wheel a bit faster than they were supposed to. Perhaps it was just her being deathly afraid of the group returning to Nightingale, but she was almost convinced that it had been Merle or someone else from his group.

She didn't crawl out of the dent for another few minutes, not wanting to mess things up. She had been doing so well on her own. Getting caught by the enemies was just about the last thing she wanted to do.

Finally she crawled out, dusting off of her clothes as she stood up. Walker goo she could handle, but dirt still gave her the creeps. Once she was sure that she was free of all dirt she resumed walking once more, this time taking the rifle off of her shoulder and cradling it in her arms. She only had a single clip left for the rifle, meaning that she had only five shots. If she did get herself in trouble with Merle's group… Well, she better pray that they aren't more than five together.

Her eyes scanned the area in an attempt to figure out where she was situated. Not that it was of any help: most of the trees appeared to be the same and the ground she stood on didn't really have any distinctive features that she could remember it by besides the small ledge type thing she had crawled under in order to hide.

With a sigh she began heading in the opposite direction that she had been going in earlier. If she changed her direction on a regular basis, perhaps she would somehow managed to get to Nightingale. After all, if she continually travelled in one direction there was always the possibility that she would just walk right past Nightingale without ever realizing.

The thought of her passing the town without realizing it caused her heart to sink. It wasn't hard to believe since she hadn't even managed to stumble upon the road that she had driven on yet.

Almost as soon as that thought escaped her she saw a familiar sight: the cabin that she had been locked in by Merle. Suddenly things didn't seem so bleak.

* * *

"God damn it!"

Daryl put a can of beans on the table with more force than necessary, causing the boy that was sitting at one side of it to jump slightly. She had been gone three damn days and he was through with keeping his anger in control for the boy's sake. He pulled out another can, this time for himself and he planted himself on the chair, carelessly throwing the crutches down on to the ground, wanting to forget their existence.

No matter how he looked at it, it was always going to be his fault if she didn't return. Had he not been shot, she wouldn't have gone out hunting on her own. Had he not been bedridden, she wouldn't have made Pablo stay behind and he sure as hell would have had a chance to convince her to stay at home and wait until he could go out with her.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he retorted, wanting to return to his thoughts as soon as possible.

Pablo watched as the man began eating his beans silently. He really missed his mama but he wasn't going to be angry at her, like Daryl was being. He was certain that she hadn't been away for so long on purpose and he was convinced that she was trying her best to get back to them. Carl didn't agree with him that she was going to come back. He had told Pablo about how Sophia had disappeared for a few days and eventually come back as a Walker.

"Maybe mama got bitten," he said with a thoughtful expression.

Daryl looked up from his food and his eyes narrowed. He wanted to shout at the boy for making such an absurd suggestion but when he saw the expression on the boy's face he immediately calmed down, realizing that something must have put the thought in his head.

"Ain't no way yer mama's gonna get herself bitten by one of the Walkers," he said, in his own way attempting to console the boy.

"Carl told me about Sophia," Pablo said, his mind not at ease. "He said it could happen to mama."

"Carl don't know yer mama like I do," Daryl said with a hint of irritation in his tone. "And she ain't a twelve year old girl lost in the woods." What business did Carl have telling Pablo about Sophia? There was no purpose in doing so other than to be mean to the kid and attempt to convince him that his mama was one of those things. Hannah turning was least of Daryl's worries.

The one that was on top of his list was that Merle had found her.

It didn't seem like a farfetched idea. After all, Merle and his group had escaped the shooting. While Daryl had been relieved that his brother wasn't killed, the idea of him getting to Hannah was bloodcurdling. She had told him that last time Merle had been close to touching her but Daryl had arrived at right time, cutting in before he was able to do a different kind of damage to her. This time, Daryl wasn't going to be able to stop his brother before it was too late.

If he hadn't got shot in the god damn leg, he would have been able to be out there, searching for her with the rest of them. He wouldn't be doing a half assed job at it either, like he was sure the rest of group was. It wasn't that they didn't care but it seemed as if they had more important things to do, as if there was something to do in the town.

"So you think she's going to come back?"

"She ain't gonna die, that's fer sure."

The ambiguity of Daryl's answer bothered Pablo, not that he was about to say something about it. The fact that he was adamant that his mama was going to survive was comforting enough, for now. Even if she wasn't going to return to them anytime soon, Pablo was relieved that she wasn't just going to die. Of course, he wanted her to come home and even though he didn't admit it to Daryl, he missed her terribly. Nobody was as comfortable to be around as his mama, at least no one alive in Nightingale. Henry had come pretty close, never acting as if he was a nuisance or constantly forcing conversation to fill the silence.

Daryl wasn't so bad. He was a bit intimidating but when Pablo was reading he would listen and it actually felt like they were having a good time. He couldn't really tell why his mama liked Daryl so much. When he wasn't listening to the stories he just seemed like a grumpy man.

Suddenly there was a huge increase in the amount of chatter heard from outside the house. Daryl and Pablo looked at each other, both of their eyes lighting up with hope.

"Don't get yer hopes up, kid," Daryl warned, taking his own words to heart. The last time they had expected to see Hannah it had been Carol sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

* * *

She had been expected to be greeted by anyone when she entered Nightingale but it didn't take long for T-Dog to approach her, calling the rest of the group out of their houses. Hannah ignored the hunger that was gnawing as she allowed T-Dog to pull her into a hug. They hadn't spoken much but she couldn't help but appreciate his presence ever since he had shot down that Walker that had gotten into town without them noticing.

"We were beginning to think you weren't going to return," he said as they pulled out of the hug.

"I was beginning to think I wouldn't be able to make it back, honestly," she admitted with a sheepish grin on her face.

"Thank goodness you're back!"

The redhead was overwhelmed with the amount of people that had turned up at her side. In all honesty she had been looking forward to immediately retreating into the comfort and safety of her own home, spending time with the two people she felt at ease with. Not that she didn't appreciate the fact that the people in Nightingale had missed her but she definitely didn't put them in top priority.

"What the hell happened to you out there?" Lori asked as she looked at the redhead's clothes which were covered in some sort of blood and muck.

"Where's the truck?" Hannah could hear Glenn asking from behind Rick.

Hannah looked down at her clothes and her nose scrunched up in disgust as she remembered eating the raw rabbit. Definitely not a fond memory. She looked at the group and shrugged slightly, trying to find the best way to explain what had happened. "The truck was… Stolen," she admitted, causing everyone to exchanged worried glances.

"What do you mean, stolen?" Rick inquired.

"I mean. Merle and his friends found it and decided to steal it."

"Merle? How do you know that it was him?"

"I was returning to the truck when I heard them. I managed to hide but there was no doubt that it was them," she explained. "I was just lucky that they didn't find me too. They weren't exactly happy about last week."

She wanted to ask about Daryl and Pablo but she knew that it would yield no good. If she knew Pablo right, he wouldn't have gone out on his own accord while she was gone, either worried that she wouldn't return or trying to occupy his mind with reading. He liked to put on a strong face, something she had noticed when they were living together in a tent after his parents' death. It surprised her that an eight year old felt that he had to hide his emotions but she couldn't help but admire it. She had been the whiniest eight year old she had ever heard of and compared to Pablo she had been a downright brat.

"MAMA!"

Her heart leapt with joy when she heard Pablo's voice calling out her name. She turned to the house they called home, only to see Pablo a few steps away. As soon as he got close enough, she picked him up and held him in a tight embrace. Having him back in her arms war surprisingly comforting, making the ache in her feet disappear and the hunger in her stomach nonexistent. She couldn't help but wonder if Benjamin would have felt the same way had he been able to see Adrian again.

What if Adrian was still somewhere, waiting for his papa to return?

She forced the melancholic thoughts out of her mind, reminding herself that she was fortunate to have Pablo in her life. To have someone to come home to and someone that looked forward to her coming back. He might not be her biological son but as far as she was concerned he was her emotional offspring.

"I was scared mama," Pablo admitted as she put him down once more. "I thought you weren't going to come back."

"Honey, I'm always going to come back," she said, making a promise she had no way of guaranteeing that she would be able to keep. "I'm always going to try my best to be with you. Okay?"

The boy nodded, understanding what she meant. He had learned early on in the apocalypse that most promises didn't mean anything other than the fact that people were going to try their best. His parents had promised that they would make everything be normal again, that they weren't going to leave him alone or let him die. The last promise was the only one that they managed to keep. So he took Hannah's promise as a promise to do her best, but not as a guarantee that she would always be back.

"You must be famished!"

Lori had been appalled by the condition that Hannah's clothes were in and she definitely didn't want to think about what the blood had come from. She didn't know if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but Hannah seemed to have worn out quite a bit since she disappeared. She definitely didn't look healthy, to say the least. Lori's eyes travelled to Carol, reminding her of the scheme the two of them had come up with.

Once the majority of the group had left Hannah's side, wanting to allow her to regain her energy, Lori approached her.

"Hannah, how about Pablo come stay over with us tonight, him and Carl can have a sleepover," she suggested, smiling at the boy who seemed to be relatively excited by the idea.

Hannah looked at Pablo before nodding. "As long as Pablo wants to, I'd be more than happy to allow him to come over," she said, slightly disappointed that the boy wasn't going to insist on staying in with her. Not that she could blame him for wanting to do something like have a sleepover with his friend. After all, he was just an eight year old boy. "How about we go and get your stuff ready then and you can go over when you feel like it?" she offered Pablo, who nodded in agreement.

"Thank you Lori," she said as she took the boy's hand and began walking off towards her home.

* * *

He was pissed and he knew that he had no right to be. The boy looked at her as his damn mama and it had been hard for him too. But the fact that she had been barely able to say a word to Daryl because of the constant chattering come from the boy pushed his buttons. Every time he got ready to say something, Pablo found something new to say or ask. Eventually Daryl settled for just watching the two of them converse, both of them chatting their mouths off.

It was nice to see her back though. Despite her dirty clothes and tangled mess of hair, she looked like she had managed to survive fairly well out on her own. He couldn't help but be proud of her, feeling like he was at least partially responsible for her survival.

"Alright, now remember to listen to Lori, alright?" Hannah asked, handing Pablo a bag filled with clothes and toys. There was no real reason for him to have the bag since they lived only a minute away from each other but she couldn't help but feel that it made things seem a bit more normal. Catching a small, worried expression from the boy she patted him on the head. "I'm going to stay in tonight. I don't plan on going anywhere on my own anytime soon," she promised as she led the boy to the door.

Daryl listened intently, trying to figure out what was going on. Their words were inaudible and it wasn't until he heard the door shut that he knew that the boy was gone. At least he would be able to have time to ask her what happened and find out why she had been gone for so long.

"Hannah?" he called out after a few minutes, getting ready to stand up.

"You're supposed to be resting, Daryl!"

He let a smile slip past his lips while his back was facing her but as soon as she was able to see his face, he wiped it off. "Ain't gotta rest 'f I don't want to, ya know," he said, trying to remain nonchalant about the whole thing. He watched from the corner of his eye as she slowly traveled towards the bed and took a seat next to him. She had changed clothes since she had gotten back and she was now wearing a clean shirt and some sort of jogging pants or whatever they were.

"What took ya so long?"

Hannah looked at Daryl questioningly. Was he talking about what took her so long to get home? "It was only three days, Daryl," she said.

"Three days too long," he replied. "Ya ain't supposed to be going around 'n disappearin' 'n stuff. Ya got the boy here waitin' fer ya all day."

"Well, you were here so it was-"

"I ain't no babysitter!" Daryl shouted, causing Hannah to shut up.

A sullen silence took off where Daryl's sentence had finished. Hannah wanted to tell him off, tell him that she had just needed him to keep an eye on Pablo while she was gone. It only took her a moment to realize that he had done exactly that. Pablo had been fed and taken care of, heck; he even said that they had spent time together in the same room, Pablo reading from the fairy tale book and Daryl listening. That was far more than Hannah had ever expected from Daryl and even though he claimed to not be a babysitter he had certainly done the job of one.

"I mean. You ain't supposed to get yourself in trouble like that. Goin' out on yer own and such," Daryl said, feeling like he shouldn't have shouted. He knew what she meant, that things had been okay since he had been there to take care of the boy. She didn't mean that she was expecting him to take care of the boy all the time. "Ya got people here that worry 'bout ya. It ain't just the boy, ya know."

He felt like some dumbass, telling her that he was worried about her.

"Anythin' happen out there? Ya didn't hurt yourself?" he asked, trying to relieve the embarrassment that was beginning to surface from admitting that he had been worried.

"They stole the car," Hannah began, realizing that Daryl hadn't heard the whole story. "Merle and his group," she clarified. "I was lucky that they didn't see me. Otherwise I just spent the days walking, hoping that I was going in the right direction."

"Did'ya eat anythin'?"

Hannah laughed at the question, feeling like she was being interrogated by a concerned mother rather than Daryl Dixon. "I had a rabbit and some bark. Enough to keep me going I suppose."

The thought of food reminded her that she had yet to eat something. The hunger had been pushed to the back of her mind upon reuniting herself with the group. Despite the fact that she wanted to sit and keep on talking to Daryl, she couldn't hold back anymore on the gnawing at her stomach. She stood up from the bed, looking at Daryl as she reached the door. "I'm going to go get something to eat. I had forgotten that I was starving," she said with an apologetic look on her face.

She didn't wait for him to answer, allowing the hunger to control her body as she smoothly navigated into the kitchen. She couldn't help but notice that there were roughly a dozen cans sitting in random places in the kitchen and the sink was filled with forks and spoons. She smiled to herself, suddenly feeling like a real housewife. Without her, they would have just kept on piling the cans and the forks and spoons until there was so much that they would be forced to clean up.

She grabbed a can out of the cupboard, not bothering to inspect what it had. She opened it up only to discover that she had grabbed a can of pear halves. Content with her choice she quickly opened up the can, using the can opener in a clumsy way and she began picking out the pear halves and devouring them.

Since all her attention was invested, she had failed to noticed the thumps that came from the room that Daryl was staying in and she failed to noticed the sound of the crutches landing down on to the floor each time he pulled himself closer to the kitchen. It wasn't until he was pretty much standing next to her that she noticed that someone was in the same room.

Startled, Hannah dropped the can.

"Jesus, Daryl, don't scare me like that!" she whined as she bent down to pick up the can. Luckily only the juice had escaped it, leaving the two pear halves in the can. "You're supposed to be resting!" she exclaimed, remembering that his leg wasn't supposed to receive a lot of pressure.

Daryl mumbled something about not having to rest all the time. He watched as she stuffed one of the remaining pears into her mouth and he couldn't help but find it endearing that she was eating like an animal. The corners of his mouth turned downwards as he realized that he found something _endearing._ That sure as hell wasn't the way that Merle had raised him. But then again, Merle had taught him that it was them against the world; that nobody would ever look at him twice, at least not without a look of disgust.

Yet here he was, standing in front of a woman who didn't treat him like he was _dangerous_ or _dirty._ If he wanted to, she wouldn't hesitate touching him or hugging him. She was proof that Merle hadn't been right about everything.

_She won't wait forever, you know._

Carol's words run in Daryl's head for some absurd reason, causing him to study the redhead as she took the last bite of the last pear half. Even while she was eating it was obvious that she was a whole other type of person than he was. She sort of reminded him of the little dancer, from the _Brave Tin Soldier_ story. Pretty and graceful, even though she was doing things that no lady should be caught doing, like shooting a rifle. If she was the dancer, then he sure as hell was the _Tin Soldier_. Neither of them had anything to offer to the other. Tin soldier living in a box with twenty four of his brothers and Daryl not feeling as if he was good enough for any woman.

He reminded himself of how the story had ended because of the tin soldier's lack of action.

Driven by impulse, Daryl allowed one of the crutches to fall to the ground, freeing his hand. Before Hannah was able to say anything he took a step closer and pulled her towards him, taking the chance that he had never been able to convince himself to take before.

He didn't know how to do it all romantic like they did in the movies. He had kissed a few women in his own time, most of which were some of Merle's vixens who had been instructed to please him. But they had always controlled, leaving him to go with their actions without much thought. So he just did whatever the fuck he wanted.

Her lips were soft and they felt perfect against his. To his surprise, she didn't push him away or tell him to stop. Instead she seemed to accept the kiss without any fuss. After a moment he decided to take the next step. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth.

There was a thud as the second crutch fell to the ground.

He had one of his hands on the small of her back, the other one hanging awkwardly at his side. Her hands had travelled from the counter that they had been resting on, one of them placing itself on his chest and the other resting on his shoulder. Neither of them had never been able to imagine that a kiss between the two of them could be so satisfying.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered as he pulled away, his hand reaching for leg while the other left the small of Hannah's back.

It took her a moment to realize what had happened. When she saw where his hand was, she was reminded of the fact that he wasn't supposed to be putting pressure on his leg. Her cheeks flushed a dark shade of red as she rushed to pick up his crutches. The kiss had been far from what she had expected from Daryl. Even if he had liked her, which she had never really considered before, kissing just didn't seem like his modus operandi. A corner of her mouth turned upwards, forming a minuscule smile as she had just used the word _modus operandi_ to describe Daryl. It didn't suit him.

She handed him the crutches and watched as he quickly left the room, leaving her slightly confused for a moment. Then she remembered that she was dealing with Daryl Dixon. It was a wonder that he hadn't tried to stagger out of the room before she had been able to pick up the crutches.

As soon as he was out of the kitchen, Daryl let out a sigh, finally able to let out the air he had been holding down. Whether Carol was right or wrong about Hannah waiting for him, she had given him the push that he had been waiting for. He licked his lips only to discover that the sweet taste of pears was lingering on them.

* * *

**A/N:** So living alone has made me busier than ever... Which is why I didn't update yesterday, although I'm sure you guys don't mind. Anyways, it took me a while to write this chapter but then suddenly I had a hard time stopping! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Thanks for commenting, following and favoriting!


	13. Chapter 13

She had never seen his chest before, probably because he didn't want her to. Despite what had happened the night before- the kiss, she wouldn't have thought that she would be able to further penetrate the walls that he seemed to surround himself with. Maybe this hadn't been a conscious decision on his part, perhaps he had taken the shirt off in the middle of the night because it was too hot in the room and he had forgotten that she was there, clinging on to him. One thing was for sure, he had the shirt on when they had gone to bed.

Her left finger awkwardly traced a small, circular red scar. From what she could tell from the size and shape of the scar it had been a cigarette burn wound at some point. She turned her head and looked up at the sleeping man besides her. His reluctance to take her to his home before the apocalypse had aroused some suspicion about his family but somehow it didn't seem all that likely that someone so _tough_ would take someone's punishments quietly.

Then again, maybe he was tough because someone had made him take their shit. There were so many theories floating around in Hannah's head that she had failed to noticed that his eyes were wide open, a vexed glint in them once they realized what her fingers were doing. It wasn't until he pulled himself so that he was sitting upright, leaving her to fumble around in the bed, trying to regain the balance she had lost from losing her "_pillow_", that she realized that he was awake.

"The hell are ya doin', Hannah," he muttered frustrated. Waking up to her just being there was nice but once he realized what she was caressing the nicety of it turned into a source of irritation. He couldn't remember how his shirt had come off and he grunted as he figured he must have taken it off in the damn heat.

"I was just uh-" Hannah's cheeks began to turn red as she sat herself up. "Looking at your scars," she settled on, realizing that she wouldn't get better results if she lied to him about what she had been doing. It would have been obvious even to the dumbest of people (and Daryl was certainly not the dumbest person she knew.)

"I ain't dumb ya know," Daryl said as he picked up the shirt that had been sitting by the bed. "Touchin' the damn things. Stupid…" the rest of the words was inaudible as he put the shirt on in a rushed manner.

"I'm sorry… I just had never seen before…"

"Ain't ya seen scars before?" he retorted.

"Not so many in one place," she admitted.

She certainly had a couple of scars of her own, most from her being a rather clumsy child and falling down and hurting herself badly. None of her scars were so obviously results of abuse, like the ones that adorned Daryl's chest. She found herself wanting to look at them again, touch them and ask him about them but it was obvious that he wouldn't like it much.

"Was it your brother who did them?" she asked, deciding that she was going to ask him sooner or later. "Or your father?" She couldn't remember him ever mentioning that he had a mother. Somehow his brother seemed like a likelier culprit, at least to her. The way Merle had cut her arm without any reason to and the way his hand felt against her body, there was something about it that made her think of someone who used violence excessively.

"Lil' bit of both," Daryl answered after a while of thought. He had sworn to himself that he wasn't going to talk about this shit with anyone but if there was a chance that anyone could relate, it was going to be someone like Hannah. "Merle did it fer me, he said. My dad did it for the hell of it, I think."

"How the hell was he doing this _for_ you?" Hannah asked, offended that someone would claim that the abuse was for the abused person's sake.

"Makin' me tough."

As much as Hannah hated to admit it, Daryl was tough as nails. Although, she was sure it wasn't because Merle had _toughened him up_. Daryl had managed to cope, even though someone was putting him down in that sense. Even though it wasn't exactly his life story, it was a glimpse into his life that she had never seen before. A glimpse she would never have imagined that she would be allowed to see. She smiled to herself, absent minded. It wasn't until she saw a slightly offended expression on Daryl's face that she realized it seemed oddly out of place.

"Sorry, I wasn't smiling because of that-"

"Ya don't gotta apologize."

"But I do!" Hannah protested. "I don't want you to think I was smiling because of what happened to you! I was just thinking that I never thought that you know… I'd ever get to really know anything about you. You always keep yourself an arm's length from everyone. But here you are, telling me something about yourself. It just feels like…" she paused, trying to find the right words. Did she want to say that she felt like she was breaking down his walls?

"You trust me, you know?"

It took Daryl a while to process what she meant. After all, there were people that he trusted. He trusted Rick to do the right thing and make the right decisions. There were quite a few people in the group that he trusted his life with, people he knew that he could count on in a time of crisis. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Hannah was in another level of trust. He liked to attribute it to the fact that she had gone through something similar but he knew that that was a bullshit excuse he was giving himself.

She had always been working her way into his mind, somehow taking the right steps that most other people managed to screw up while approaching him.

He leaned forward and for the second time, he kissed her.

* * *

"I'm feelin' fine, dammit. Ain't no reason to stay cooped up in _here_."

Hannah allowed her hands to fall down to her side as she realized that there was no arguing with this man. His heart was set on going out hunting and that was exactly what he was going to do, whether she liked it or not. If she couldn't change his mind, there was little hope that Hershel would be able to persuade him that he needed to refrain from doing things like hunting.

Not that the old man felt that Daryl needed the rest. He thought it was good for Daryl to resume things as if nothing had ever happened once his leg had healed. Hannah firmly disagreed but it seemed that there wasn't anyone in all of Nightingale that was willing to go against Daryl.

She watched as he picked up his crossbow and motioned towards Pablo to follow him. For a moment she thought about getting her stuff and going with them, simply because she was worried that something would happen. But when she caught a warning glance from Daryl, one that told her that she needed to back off before he was forced to tell her so himself, she decided that this was a battle that she just wasn't going to win.

"We'll be fine," Daryl said; trying his best to hide the fact that he was still annoyed by how she was trying to treat him like he was unable to do anything on his own. "Ain't that right, kid?" he asked, looking at the boy who stood by his side. He wanted to spend some time to himself, having spent the past two weeks with Hannah and Pablo almost constantly by his side. But the boy had been so excited to go out hunting with him that he had a hard time telling him to buzz off. The kid was beginning to grow on him, as much as he hated to admit it.

Hannah watched as Pablo nodded fervently, obviously eager to go and learn how to hunt. "Just be careful, okay?" she pleaded, looking at Daryl with a worried expression. She could hear Pablo exit the house but she didn't take her eyes off of Daryl, thinking that if she did he would disappear out of the house.

"Don't gotta worry 'bout me," he replied, moving towards the door. "Didn't need anyone tellin' me to be careful before, I don't need someone doin' it now."

Hannah wanted to tell him that she knew that he didn't _need_ her to worry about him and that nobody ever did it before, but that she wanted to worry about him because she cared and she was worried about both him and Pablo getting into some sort of trouble. Because that was what people did when they cared about someone. They worried, even when they didn't have to.

Instead of telling him how things worked, she grabbed his arm and stood on her toes as she planted her lips on his. It was like most of the other kisses they had shared since she got back: short and simple. They weren't frequent and far from being what she had always pictured kisses with someone to be like. Most of the times she was the one that initiated them but she honestly didn't mind. The fact that he had taken the first couple of steps meant more to her than the fact that she was the one taking the next few.

Besides, his lack of action was typical Daryl. At least he wasn't pushing her away when she did try to show him how she felt and they slept in the same bed. Sometimes she would even wake up close to him, something that she had never expected him to allow her to do before. Their relationship had never been characterized by a lot of progress in a short amount of time.

When she pulled away, she could have sworn that she saw something resembling a smile but before she was able to point it out, Daryl was out the door, telling her that they would be back in time for dinner. Hannah sighed, feeling dispirited by his reaction. She reminded herself of what kind of person Daryl was as she began picking together the clothes lying around the house.

"Are you mad at mama?"

Daryl looked at the boy who was walking by his side, with a brow raised. What sort of dumb question was that? "Nah, can't be mad at yer mama," he answered truthfully, avoiding telling the boy that he was annoyed with her however. The kiss had softened him up a bit but it didn't make the fact that she was trying to take care of him all the time go away.

"You sounded mad."

"I told'ya, I ain't mad at Hannah," Daryl said, the irritation in his voice evident.

"Henry said that being worried is something you do when you love someone," Pablo said, thinking of the old man. "He said that's why he was always worried about us when we went hunting. He was scared we wouldn't come back and we were everything he had left." The memory of the old man haunted Pablo continually but compared to when his parents died, it wasn't that difficult to deal with.

"The hell are you talkin' 'bout worryin'," Daryl muttered, not wanting to hear the things that Pablo had to say. What was an eight year old doing, talking about people loving each other and sticking his nose in Daryl's business anyways? Daryl sure as hell didn't spend his younger years pestering people about things they didn't want to talk about. At least not that he remembered.

"I heard you and-"

"Ya want to learn how t' hunt, ain't that right?" he interrupted the boy. Once the boy nodded, he continued: "Yer mama shoulda told ya a long time ago. First rule is to talk as lil' as ya can." Upon hearing those words Pablo promptly shut his mouth, not wanting to ruin the hunt by talking.

The notion that people worried when they loved someone was something that didn't seem too bad to Daryl. It was better than Hannah worrying about him because she didn't trust him to survive out on his own. He placed an awkward pat on the boy's shoulder, thanking the boy in his mind for saying those words. Even if it wasn't true, it was a nice thought.

* * *

The mood in the group was without a doubt reflected by the women as they sat close to the well, each of them doing their own set of laundry. They were chatting away, all of them happy with the fact that they were feeling safer than ever in this new town. There was no one keeping them out of their houses and there was no constant danger.

Of course, they had been attacked by a group of men who had planned to take over their town and one of them had both been kidnapped and disappeared. Still it didn't make things feel unsafe. Perhaps it was because the Walker issues seemed almost nonexistent thanks to the Wall that had been put around most of the town.

"How are things at home, Hannah?"

The redhead looked up from the shirt that she had been washing, her eyes traveling around the small circle and landing on Lori whose look seemed to imply that she was doing more than just ask out of nicety. She wondered briefly whether Lori had invited Pablo to sleepover at her place with something specific in mind, but she quickly dismissed the thougth since Daryl as so unpredictable when it came to people that was a silly plan.

"Well, nice enough I s'pose," Hannah answered with a shrug. "As normal as things can be with everything that has happened the past couple of weeks."

"I think she was tryin' to ask about you and Daryl, Hannah," Maggie pointed out with a playful tone.

"What about us?" Hannah asked, trying her best not to smile. She imagined that this was something that would have been a part of a normal high school experience, that this was some of the stuff she would have experienced if she hadn't been homeschooled. Having female friends who would try to inquire about her love life, causing her to feel giddy was something she had never gotten to experience, isolated from the rest of the world when she was younger.

She reminded herself that she was far too old to be in high school and the giddiness she was experiencing was probably something that she shouldn't be feeling. After all, she was twenty three years old, not sixteen.

"There's nothing to talk about, really," she said, not allowing anyone else to speak before she continued. "Sounds like you were expecting something?" she asked with a raise brow, looking at Lori.

"You can't blame her, Hannah," Maggie said. "It's not like Daryl likes to spend a lot of time with everyone in the group."

Hannah shrugged, knowing that Maggie did have a point. She was more than well aware of the fact that she was some sort of exception to Daryl. She couldn't exactly see why she would be more special than the other women; it wasn't like she was very different. She liked hanging around other people and she certainly hadn't hesitated when it came to asking Daryl questions when they first met.

"Things are pretty good then, I suppose," she admitted, immediately causing the other women to ask one question after another, each of them just as curious about the developments between her and the redneck. She didn't pay full attention to any of the questions, deciding to stay silent as she continued to wash the shirt.

"You can't just say things are pretty good and not say anything else," Lori said, wanting to know more.

"There isn't much to tell, as I said before," Hannah said. "We've been sharing a bed since Henry died and when Pablo went to sleep over-" Hannah paused to give Lori a look that acknowledged that she now understood that Lori had been trying to pull strings from behind the scene. "We wound up kissing. That's about it," she said. If Daryl knew that she was talking about the things that were going on between the two of them, would he be mad at her? Somehow she had a feeling that the fact that he was a private person about most of his life meant that he was definitely going to be private about something like this too.

"Nothing else?" Maggie asked with a smirk.

"No, nothing beyond kissing."

"You two haven't… had sex yet?"

Hannah looked at Maggie with her brows raised slightly, indicating that she was slightly surprised by the question. Was having sex something expected of her so soon? Almost immediately she felt stupid, of course it was expected. After all, she was twenty three and he was older than her. Even though they had never taken _big steps_ in their interactions, perhaps things were supposed to start progressing faster now that he got the ball rolling. Maybe that was why he wasn't often initiating things between the two of them: they hadn't yet had sex.

"I haven't really… had sex before," Hannah said, the last part becoming a whisper, as if she was hoping to keep it a secret from someone. The other women looked at each other, almost all of them looking surprised.

"How come?" Maggie said, daring to ask the question on the other women's minds.

"Never really had a chance to, I suppose?" she answered with a shrug. "I was homeschooled by my father. Or, _homeschooled_," Hannah corrected, air quoting as she said homeschooled the second time around. The first few years of schooling she had definitely learned something but after that it was mostly up to her to study on her own. The result had been that she was well read and good with words but she lacked a lot of general knowledge that most people learned in school. "I didn't really know anyone outside my parents. We lived in a real rural area, pretty much just out in the woods most of the time. The first person I met who wasn't related to me was some woman my dad brought home when I was ten. She tried to convince me to try on her skirt," she laughed at the memory of the drunken bimbo that her father had brought home one night.

"That doesn't sound right, keeping a girl away from having friends and knowing other people," Lori commented.

"I guess it doesn't. To me it was normal. It wasn't until I was supposed to be starting high school I wanted to get out there and get to know other people."

"Why didn't you just go when you were old enough then?" Lori asked.

"I don't think it was that simple," Carol said with a sense of understanding that caught Hannah off guard. "You don't have to explain yourself," she said looking at Hannah sympathetically. Although the redhead didn't show any of the classic signs, it did explain why Daryl had been drawn to her, at least in Carol's eyes. For someone who seemed to come from a broken home himself, of course he would want to help and take care of someone in a similar predicament.

She watched as the redhead seemed to send a thankful glance her way before continuing with the laundry. She didn't look like someone who had been isolated on purpose by her parents and she certainly didn't show it with her behavior that there was something in her past that was in any way difficult.

"Alright, I'm gonna head back and hang these up," Hannah said, stand up abruptly. The question Lori had asked bothered her and she honestly didn't want to think about it at all. The more she did something else, the less she could think about it. But Lori was right- why hadn't she just left when she had the chance to? Her father had threatened to kill himself every time her mother left and yet whenever she did leave, he never wound up doing it. He had been trying to use in an attempt to keep them with him and it wound up only working on her.

* * *

"Where'd'ya learn that?" Daryl asked, watching as the young boy began carefully peeling off the skin off of the rabbit that Daryl had shot down. "Did yer mama teach ya that?" he asked and when the boy nodded he nodded too, although his was in approval rather than simply being a yes. She hadn't taught the boy how to hold a knife properly and it was obvious that she hadn't known what the best parts were but she had done right by the boy, teaching him how to salvage at least some of the hunt.

"Ya don't want to begin skinning," Daryl said, stopping the boy. "She ain't any good with the food, yer mama. Ya want to loosen the bladder first," he said, going through the motions he had been practicing since he could remember himself. He looked up only to see a scrunched up nose. "'N don't dare eat it raw. Ya could get some disease," he said, waving his hand slightly. "Don't remember the name but it's nasty. Fever, chills, stomach problems… Coulda killed yer mama if she'd gotten it."

Pablo looked at Daryl, wondering how he knew all of this stuff. His mama had told him that he had grown up hunting his whole life but it had been hard to believe up until now. Even if he looked like someone who had been living in the forest, redneck as people called it, Pablo had somehow never imagined him to be a good hunter. Maybe it was because he wasn't like the people his parents had taught him would be successful. People who got far in life were supposed to be the kind that talked a lot and were leaders but this man seemed to blend into the background.

"How did you learn all this stuff?" Pablo suddenly found himself asking.

"My brother taught me," Daryl answered. "Whenever he was home, he'd teach me just about everythin' he knew 'bout huntin'. Some stuff I learned on my own."

"What about your parents? Did they teach you how to hunt too?" the boy asked, forgetting the conversation he had had with Daryl only about a week ago.

"My dad didn't teach me a damn thing," Daryl answered bitterly. "Didn't have no _mama_ to teach me anythin'."

Pablo watched as Daryl continued to show him how to properly take care of a rabbit that he had shot down. It definitely was different from what his mama had taught him but he didn't mind. She had known enough to keep them alive and she had taught him as much as she could. He was lucky that there was someone else who knew even more about hunting than his mama. However, he couldn't help but feel bad about the fact that the man didn't have a mama. Even though Pablo had lost his real mama what felt like a long time ago, he still had his new mama to take care of him and treat him almost as good as his real mama had.

"I'm sorry you didn't have a mama."

Daryl looked at the boy, bewildered that he had felt a need to apologize. It wasn't like he had ever considered it a tragedy. He had always been sure that even if he had one, she wouldn't have changed the way things had been when he was growing up. Of course, the boy had grown up with both parents and now he had Hannah to take care of him. He didn't know what it was like to have to take care of yourself on your own or rely on someone who wasn't always nice to you.

"It ain't yer fault. But _thank you_," he said, making sure to emphasize the last part. He found himself placing a hand on the boy's head and as soon as he did, he realized that Hannah wasn't the only person who had managed to weasel her way into his life and become someone who mattered more than himself.

* * *

**A/N:** I've been having major writer's block. You know, the typical, know where I want to go but can't find something to put in between! But then I managed this update. I just wanted to put in some of how things were, just around the town and such. Relationships and stuff like that. Anyways! Thanks for reading, commenting, favoriting and following! You guys are awesome!


	14. Chapter 14

Where the hell were those things?

Hannah carefully scanned over the shelf labeled _family planning_ once more, hoping to see what she had overlooked. She didn't touch the items in fear of somehow causing ruckus and drawing all the attention to herself. Not that there was anyone around her to see what she was doing. It was early, _very_ early and the sun was barely in the sky, causing a nice golden glow to take over Nightingale. She had been out on watch for the first time since…

She forced the thought of Daryl's less likeable brother out of her mind.

What she had to keep her mind on was the more important task ahead: finding contraceptives. After the conversation with the women the previous day, all she could think about was how she _had_ to take things to the next level in order for things to continue progressing between the two of them. After all, that was the next logical step in their relationship according to, well, every movie Hannah had ever seen and every book she had read that centered on relationships.

Finally she noticed something lying on the ground and she couldn't help but feel a bit dumb for not having notice it before. She had been so focused on the shelves that she hadn't looked down. She picked up a box of condoms, examining it carefully. She didn't know whether it was a good or bad brand but she recognize the name of the condoms, having seen wrapping from it around her house whenever her father brought some bimbo around.

She put it into the backpack she had brought with her in hopes of concealing the items that she was retrieving if anyone happened to be awake at that ungodly hour. She wandered around the small convenience store, grabbing items at random. A few cans of fruit, some beans and a few supplements to make up for the lack of proper food. She really didn't need any of that stuff, since they had plenty of supplies at home but she couldn't take only the condoms. If anyone stopped her, what would she tell them?

_Oh, I was just hanging around in the convenience store with my backpack. Nothing suspicious._

She laughed bitterly to herself as she began examining the small book section of the store, the lack of variety appalling. However, being a lover of reading she picked up one of the books and began flipping through it, reading every few pages. It wasn't like she was in a hurry to get out of the store, with everyone else sleeping.

* * *

Daryl couldn't believe how he had changed. Before they came to Nightingale, he would never have imagined that he would be sharing a bed with someone and missing them while they were gone was something he would have considered to be absurd. But waking up without the redhead curled up close to him was strangely melancholic, even though he knew that she was just outside the house, sitting in that damn rocking chair, her hands on her rifle.

He pulled himself lazily out of bed, only getting up because he wanted to check up on Hannah. Even though he knew that she could take care of herself, the memory of her being abducted by Merle was still fresh in his mind. She had a knack for getting herself in trouble since they had been reunited and somehow, Daryl had a feeling that her three day camping trip wasn't the end of it.

He quickly changed shirts, unable to sleep without one in fear that he would wake up to someone caressing his scars. Even though he had managed to talk to Hannah about where he had gotten the scars from, he didn't want to have her looking at him, her eyes looking all weird, as if she felt terrible for him. In his mind, she didn't have any reason to feel bad. It wasn't like it was her fault and it wasn't like she didn't have her own problems. He wondered whether he would be allowed to ask her about her family now that he had told her something.

Not that he had been expecting that when he disclosed the truth to her.

Daryl stood up and headed out of the room, stopping briefly in the doorway in order to check on Pablo. The boy was sound asleep on his stomach, his dark brown hair a rumpled mess and the covers thrown on to the floor. He continued into the bathroom where there was a small laundry basket that Hannah had insisted on them using. He threw the shirt he had slept in into the basket before looking in the mirror.

His face was dirty and the stubble was beginning to get out of control. He ran his hand across his jaw, making a mental note that he had to try and find something to shave with if possible. Compared to how nicely Hannah seemed to take care of herself and Pablo, he seemed like some sort of dirty hobo. He found himself wondering how she could lie next to him in bed every night and why the heck she would stand on her tiptoes in order to kiss him.

He wasn't the sort of man he had imagined her ending up with. The sort of man she was _supposed_ to be with.

He reached into a pail and cupped his hands together. In one quick motion he scooped up the water in his hands and splashed it on his face. A little too late he realized that he didn't have anything ready to wipe it with. He looked around the bathroom, his face dripping water. He grabbed a dark blue towel that was sitting on top of the toilet. He could hear something fall down on to the floor but he decided that whatever it was, it could wait until he finished drying off his face.

He turned back to the mirror and studied himself. He looked a little more presentable. He threw the towel careless in the direction of the tub. Remembering that something had fallen earlier when he picked up the towel he began searching for what had fallen.

It didn't take him long to find it. It was lying on the ground, staring back at him as if it was waiting for him to pick it up. It was a necklace with a heart shaped pendant on it. He had seen it before, plenty of times as it hung around Hannah's neck. He bent down and picked it up, trying his best to not to handle it roughly.

He began studying it as he straightened himself out. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember her ever having any jewelry prior to the Walkers. He would have noticed too, with the way he would sneak a glance her way every few minutes when they were out together. He had been obsessed with every little detail, from the way she wore her hair, the colors of her bruises to the tears of her clothes. He wasn't proud of how preoccupied he had been with looking at her, but at the time it had been something he enjoyed. Taking her in, marking her in his memory.

He turned around the little heart only to see something that he didn't like.

_Forever yours, Ray._

Screw the new piece of jewelry, Daryl wanted to know who the fuck Ray was and why he had never heard of him before. As far as he understood, he was the only person outside her parents that she had known back then. She claimed that she had been homeschooled and she stayed home to take care of her father because her mother wasn't there. At least that was what she had told him. But how was he supposed to know if it was the truth?

He felt ridiculous, standing in the bathroom, angry over a piece of jewelry. But she wore it pretty much all the time, so it must have had some sort of meaning to her. His pride was hurt by the prospect that she hadn't told him about something so important, especially since he had admitted to her how his brother had _toughened_ him up.

He quickly pocketed the necklace, deciding that he didn't want to hear her tell him about this Ray fella but he didn't want her parading the necklace around like it was some sort of prize.

* * *

"Pablo!"

The boy groaned lazily not wanting to get out of bed. He had been having a wonderful dream and he was anxious to return to it as soon as possible. It had been one of those dreams of his parents. He had been dreaming about them a lot recently, usually just memories of the time they spent together. The dreams would make him feel a bit sad when he woke up but it was better than not having any way of seeing them again.

"Pablo!"

This time he couldn't ignore his mama's call, so he began to pull himself out of the bed. He put on the shorts that had been folded and neatly placed on the end table next to the bed before heading out of the room. He was too tired to even bother with putting on more clothes and he didn't care if they saw him without a shirt. It wasn't like he had something to hide, like Daryl.

"What, mama?" he asked groggily.

"Do you know where my necklace is?"

She had been looking for it for a good half hour but it was nowhere to be found. She always left it in the bathroom if it wasn't hanging around her neck on tucked away safely with the other jewelry she had collected over time. Hannah looked at the boy, her eyes filled with worry. Even though it was originally a token of someone else's love it had become one of her favorite items.

Her heart sunk as the boy shook his head.

"You hungry?" she asked, realizing that she wasn't going to find the necklace any time soon.

"A little bit," Pablo admitted.

"How does… tangerines sound?"

"Eugh," the boy said, his face contorted at the word.

"You don't like tangerines?" Hannah asked, her brows raised in disbelief.

"Ew no!" Pablo said, following his mama as she began making her way into the kitchen. "They're like oranges."

"You don't like oranges?"

"I can't stand them."

Hannah laughed at the interesting fact. There was so much that she had left to learn about Pablo. She had no idea about what he liked and disliked, the kind of foods he had always hated and the things that he had grown to love over time. What kind of student had he been? Judging by his persona, she would have figured him to be a smart kid. He looked like the kind of kid that got good grades in school and had strong intuition.

She pulled out a can of apricots, knowing that it was his favorite.

* * *

He had needed to clear his head a little. Quell the jealousy that he was feeling towards this Ray, whoever the fuck he was. The longer he spent out in the woods, the more he realized that whoever the Ray guy was, he wasn't by Hannah's side. That didn't change the fact that Hannah wore the necklace pretty much all the time, but it did make Daryl feel like he at least had some advantage over the man.

As he walked into Nightingale, he noticed Hannah standing on the porch steps, arguing with Rick.

"There are only a dozen of them!"

"And seven of us that are able to shoot 'em down!"

Hannah stomped her foot down in a childish manner, indicating that she didn't like Rick's reasoning. After all, they had taken down twenty eight men on their own before. How could they wouldn't be able to shoot down a dozen? She noticed Daryl approaching and while she was happy to finally catch a glimpse of him, not having seen him all day, she was too invested in the argument with Rick to actually stop and greet him.

"We took them down before, why not do it again?" she suggested.

"We can't risk it. Hershel and Maggie lost Beth. You and Pablo lost Henry. Do you really want to lose more people?"

"Of course I don't! But we're not going to lose any people if we're prepared!" she reasoned.

"I know you two ain't used to abiding by other's rules," Rick explained, referring to her and Pablo. "But I'm the one in charge of this here group and I say we're leaving as soon as possible. There's no debating, understand?"

The way he insisted that they were leaving and the manner in which he told her that he was the leader reminded her of Henry's paranoia. The one she had dismissed as him being a silly old man. He had warned her that things weren't going to go smoothly with Rick. She had been convinced that he was a fine man that was going to allow them to work in harmony. Not just a single leader, everyone a leader. But she had been wrong and she now regretted not taking the old man more seriously.

"Fine, ya'll can leave. But Pablo and I, we ain't going nowhere with you," she said bitterly.

"If you don't leave, you will die," Rick said as he began walking off of the porch.

"I think we survived just fine on our own!" Hannah called out as the sheriff walked away.

She stared after the man for a moment, fully away of the fact that he was more than correct about what he said about them being in danger by staying in Nightingale. Merle and his gang were still on the loose and who knew when they would roll in, ready to take over the town? There was no doubt in Hannah's mind that they would be able to take on the gang if Rick and his group remained but if it was just her and Pablo…

She let an exasperated sigh escape her lips before she turned and looked at Daryl who stood at the steps of the porch. She wondered if he would stay with them, if she asked. She dismissed the idea of pleading him, not wanting to ask more of him than he had already given her.

"Don't want to leave this place?"

"Not really," she admitted, looking around the town. "Seems like such a waste. Build up this community and have things become so… normal. Only to leave because _it's too dangerous_," she explained, saying the last part in a mocking tone. "Pablo's happy here… I'm happy here," she continued as she inched herself closer to Daryl. She wished that she could jump into his arms like she had done the first time she saw him. They had been in a similar position, him standing at the foot of the porch, her on it.

"He's right though, Hannah," Daryl said, moving on to the first step. "If they leave 'n 's just the three of us, we ain't gonna be able to fight Merle and the others 'n win."

Her moss green eyes met with his blue ones, a smile forming at each corner of her mouth. He seemed to be confused as to why she was happy to hear those words, not having been in her head. She leaned down, covering the small amount of distance between them and planted her lips on his, marking their first public display. Her arms found their way on to his shoulders, one of the resting there while the other one bent so that her hand was in his hair. He took the last couple of steps in one leap, returning to being the taller one.

"What was that fer?" he asked as she pulled away.

"You said, if the three of us stay," she said, smiling from ear to ear.

"And?"

"I guess I was worried that you would rather have gone with them…"

Daryl stared at her in disbelief. How dumb could she be? He had already told her that he had gone back for her when the apocalypse started, to take her with him to Atlanta and if that wasn't enough, he had been worried sick when she disappeared for three days. He'd have to be crazy to just leave her and Pablo on their own to go with Rick and the rest of the group. As much as he was beginning to enjoy the group's company, he was beginning to _belong _with Hannah and Pablo.

"Yer crazy, ya know that?" he said, leaning down and pulling her into another kiss. Her lips were soft as silk and cool to the touch, causing him to wrap his free arm around her waist so that he could pull her closer. Her body pressed close to his made the body pump blood in peculiar places, although from the way she melted into his arms she didn't notice. He smiled against her lips as the kiss toned down a little, their lips still pressed against each other.

How the hell was he supposed to leave this behind?

* * *

**a/n:** I know this is way shorter than usual, but I'm working my way towards a certain point. So for now, short and sweet will have to do. Anyways, thanks for being awesome.


	15. Chapter 15

**Warning:** There may or may not be some form of smut in this chapter. (Hint: There is.)

* * *

There was tension in the air as the redhead and the redneck sat and ate their dinner, albeit neither of them had the same reason for being tense.

The redhead was worried about what the night was going to require of her. Was she supposed to be able to bend her limbs in some way that she had not yet discovered? Would he take one look at her and decide that he didn't want her body, after all? Countless scenarios presented themselves in her mind, none of them which she had even come close to discovering. She looked up from her plate, catching Daryl in the act of looking at her.

Damn it, why the hell was that damn necklace still on his mind? He had tried to ignore it, constantly reminding himself that she actually wanted him there and that he was the one that got her in the end. However, it felt like it was burning in his pocket, the place he had been keeping it in since he found it nudiustertian. He had decided against mentioning it earlier because of two things: he was trying to avoid upsetting her and usually Pablo was in the area and he was more than sure that she would _never_ mention Ray in front of the boy, whoever the fuck that was.

But now it was just the two of them. Pablo had gone to stay over at the Grimes', again. To Daryl this was the perfect and perhaps the only time to bring up the necklace. He reached into his pocket, trying his best to be delicate with the necklace.

"Are you okay?" Hannah asked, having noticed that Daryl didn't exactly seem to be in the best mood. The redneck grunted as he seemed to struggle with getting something out of his pockets. Hannah waited patiently, not wanting to do something to piss him off. This was supposed to be the night and she couldn't afford for something to go wrong. Lori had warned her to not be too high strung, as it could affect the mood.

She watched as he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the table. Her face lit up with joy as she reached out and picked up the necklace. "You found it!" she exclaimed happily as she fondled the necklace. The sheer joy on her face should have made Daryl happy but instead it only pissed him off. It didn't take Hannah long to notice that his expression didn't exactly agree with the joy that she felt.

"Daryl," she pleaded. "What is it?"

"Ain't nuthin'," he muttered.

"Fine, then it is something," she said, noticing the double negative. She was sure that Daryl hadn't done that on purpose though and her being a smart ass wasn't going to help with his surly mood. "Tell me?" she asked, rather than commanded.

"Who the fuck is this Ray fella," he asked, his tone sharp.

"Ray?" Hannah asked, having forgotten about the engraving on the other side of the heart.

"Forever yers, Ray," Daryl said bitterly.

It took a moment for the words to click in her mind. Then she remembered the engraving on the other side of the pendant. She looked at him, wondering if he was _jealous_ because of the engraving. His eyes were fixated on the plate in front of him and he resembled a child sulking. It was hard to believe, judging by his reaction, that he was a man entering his thirties.

How was she going to explain the necklace without revealing her little… hobby? What was he going to say when she told him that she picked jewelry off of Walkers? It didn't feel like it was wrong to her but she was sure that anyone else wouldn't approve of it. They wouldn't understand that she wasn't doing a bad thing, just satisfying her own curiosity.

"I don't know," she answered, deciding that honesty was the best policy.

"What the hell do ya mean, ya don't know?"

Hannah looked away from Daryl's gaze which had shifted from the dinner to her. She seemed to wriggle uncomfortably in her seat, causing Daryl to lose some of his patience. He watched as she furrowed her brows, trying to think. How the hell could she not know who the man was? She was constantly wearing a necklace from him for Pete's sake.

"I found it," she said, looking back at the redneck. "It was hanging on a Walker I killed…" she wanted to say more to explain herself but she couldn't think of anything that would help him understand.

"Ya took off a necklace off of a Walker? Who the hell does something like that?" Daryl asked, knowing that he really couldn't afford to judge her, after the Walker ear necklace he had fashioned.

"I do?" Hannah offered with a sheepish expression. "I started doing it in order to remember the people in my group who had died… At first it was just them but as time passed, I started taking off of random Walkers. Many of them didn't have anything but occasionally I would run into a couple with something. Rings… bracelets."

"Ain't never seen ya with any of it, besides that necklace."

"I don't usually wear them. I always thought that it would be a little…"

"Weird?" Hannah nodded. "How come ya wear that thing, then?"

Hannah looked at the necklace she had in her hands. "I don't know. I uhm… started wearing it when … after we met again." She paused momentarily, trying to think of why she had continued to wear it. Then she remembered the conversation with Lori. "Lori asked me if you had given it to me."

She didn't need to say more for him to comprehend why she continued to wear it every day. People thought that he had given it to her and it seemed that by revealing that little tidbit, she was telling him that she had wanted people to think that he had given it to him. She had been wearing that necklace since he had come back into her life and although he didn't know when Lori had asked her about it, he liked to think that it had been before he had taken Carol's words to heart.

"I can give ya somethin' pretty, sometime," he muttered, sounding as if he was embarrassed. "Don't know when, but ya beat ya ass ya ain't gonna be wearin' that damn thing forever." Hannah beamed at that promise. It wasn't like she had been trying force him into giving her something, but she certainly wasn't unhappy about the fact that he was offering to.

His promise did more than just make her happy; it pretty much eliminated all of her previous anxiety. Daryl Dixon was most certainly the person she wanted to be with and if that entailed having sex, she didn't mind at all. In fact, it seemed like something to look forward to, now, instead of something to dread. If he was willing to look past her hobby of collecting jewelry off of Walkers, he wasn't going to mind the fact that she hadn't given him sex in their first week together.

They finished their meal in silence, Hannah too happy to start a conversation and Daryl too embarrassed for being jealous because of someone Hannah hadn't even met.

He wasn't supposed to be jealous of anyone, ever. It didn't matter how much he cared for Hannah, jealousy was supposed to be out of the question. Dixons didn't feel dumb things like jealousy. That shit was for pussies. But then again, Daryl had been taught by Merle that Dixons could never love a woman. They were good for keepin' them safe, fuckin' them and leavin' them. Daryl looked at Hannah, his expression softening considerably. He didn't want to _leave_ her, ever. Sure as hell, he was going to keep her safe but that was all he needed to do.

He wouldn't mind if it just stayed this way for the rest of his life. Sex was something he was able to live without, although he wouldn't say no to it. He had his fair shares of intimate encounters prior to the apocalypse but none of them ever meant much to him. It was just another way to blow off steam, like hunting had been for him. Somehow he couldn't imagine Hannah as one of those women, the ones that would lie under him and _beg_ for him. He didn't want to imagine her as one of them.

That was one of the things that he liked about her. She wasn't dirty like the other women he had been with. She seemed to be as unsure of how to do things properly as he felt at times. Nobody had the chance to corrupt her, ruin her. Her father had certainly worn her out, but corruption was something she had managed to escape.

He watched as she picked up their plates at took them over to the sink. She insisted on washing the dishes, even if they didn't have any running water. If they had power and running water, he was sure that the house would be in far better condition. She seemed to try her hardest when it came to keeping things clean but with limited option to cleaning, she didn't have much to work with.

He stood up and walked over to her so that he was standing behind her, watching as she did the dishes.

Hannah could feel Daryl standing behind her and she couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Why was he watching her as she did the dishes? Usually he would just sit at the table or go do something, minding his own business. So why was tonight any different? She tried her best to hurry up with the dishes, doing a sloppier job than usual. As soon as she finished scrubbing the last dish she spun herself around quickly, so that she was facing Daryl.

She wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing; standing behind her while she was doing the dishes. However before she was able to get the words out of her mouth, his lips had collided with her, catching her off guard. For a moment her hands awkwardly floundered as she tried to figure out what to do with them, eventually settling on grabbing each side of Daryl's shirt. They stood completely still for a few moments, both of them indulging themselves in the kiss.

However Daryl was taken by surprise when he felt a cold hand slide under his shirt. He pulled away momentarily, only to see Hannah looking up at him with a expression that said: _what?_

She watched as his expression changed from flabbergasted to alluring. Not wanting to wait for him to make another move, she stood up on her toes and pulled him down with the hand that wasn't under his shirt. They lips met and this time the kiss was filled with a sense of urgency, as if she had to have his lips pressed against hers, his tongue battling hers for dominance.

Slowly they inched their way into their bedroom, unable to travel as fast as they wanted due to the fact that they were in liplock. Each step was faltering and by the time they reached the door, they were beginning to teeter in an effort to avoid falling. Due to his eagerness, Daryl was beginning to lose his patience with wobbling towards the bed and as a solution he picked her up nearly effortlessly. There was a slight sting in his leg where the bullet had hit him but it was minuscule compared to the craving that was beginning to consume him.

She was thrown down on to the bed clumsily, bouncing slightly as she hit the mattress. Some things never went smoothly as they were usually portrayed in the movies. Hannah smiled to herself, happy that their relationship wasn't like one out of a movie. If Daryl was the typical Prince Charming or Ruffian that had to be tamed, she wouldn't be as intrigued by him and the moments when he would let her in wouldn't mean as much to her because he wouldn't be Daryl Dixon; a man surrounded by a near-impenetrable wall.

He lounged at her like a predator reaching for its kill but without the abrasiveness of a killer.

Once his lips found hers, her hands began to wander once more, this time being bolder than they had been before. Her right was tugging at his shirt, pleading him to take it off while the other ventured dangerously close to his groin, gently caressing his skin. The tenderness of her touch was foreign to Daryl, causing the skin on his arms to ride, forming goosebumps.

Realizing that she was trying to take off his shirt he pulled away and examined the redhead that was situated under him. He had wanted to avoid her staring at his scars but the way she looked at him, the way her eyes glistened with something _familiar_, told him that she wasn't going to. Even if she would she wasn't going to think of him as disgusting. If she had she would have disappeared long ago. He pulled off his shirt revealing the scarred chest.

Hannah pulled herself from under Daryl and she pulled off her own shirt, sensing that he wasn't exactly comfortable with her seeing his scars. Not that she had any so painfully visible on her front but she figured that perhaps it could serve as a distraction of some sort.

And what a distraction it was!

Her body was completely different than Daryl had imagined it, completely different from what he had seen in his _nightmare._ Her skin was a few shades paler and instead of being free of any marks, she was covered in freckles. It surprised him since she had only a handful of spots on her face and arms. Somehow he hadn't imagined her to have all those marks on her body but they were strangely appealing.

It reminded him of the stars in the sky.

He leaned down and planted soft kisses, starting from the collarbone, traveling down to her breasts and ending at her navel. Somehow he felt that he couldn't just go on autopilot with her, that he had to take his time to show her that he was truly invested in her at this moment. He slowly traveled upwards and their lips met once again.

Hannah's hands cautiously travelled down towards his pants exploring the surfaced, feeling the hard bulge that was evidence of his arousal. In what would be considered a record time, Hannah managed to undo his pants with only one hand. While she hesitantly slid her hand into the warmth of his pants, Daryl caressed her body attentively. It wasn't until her fingers wrapped around him that Daryl began to lose his self-control. His touch became needier and his kisses were harsher.

It wasn't long until both of them had thrown off the rest of their clothes.

"Daryl," she said, withdrawing her hand that had been provoking his excitement. Her heart was beating hard against her chest, threatening to burst out at any second. He stopped and looked at her, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed how flushed her cheeks were. She had always been pretty, but somehow she looked divine, lying in the bed under him.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No, no!" she protested. "Just… maybe we should get a condom?"

Good thinking. It's not like they wanted to bring a child in a middle of this mess. Daryl moved off of her as she got out of the bed and reached into a bag lying close to it. He accepted the small package and he didn't waste any time on opening and putting it on. Soon enough they were in the same position: her lying on the bed and him holding himself over her. He had been ready to take the plunge when he noticed a brief expression, one that told him that he didn't know everything.

"Ya 'kay?" he asked, a worried expression on his face.

"I'm fine," Hannah said. "It's just I…." the rest of her sentence became inaudible.

"What?"

"I've never… before." She was hardly one for beating around the bush, but somehow admitting to Daryl that she had never been with a man was something that embarrassed her and she couldn't just _say it_.

"Christ Hannah," Daryl said, sounding surprised by the news although he had suspected as much. "Are ya sure ya want to do this with **me**?" For a moment their eyes locked and there was no more need for either of them to wonder whether the other really wanted it.

"I wouldn't want anyone else," she whispered as he leaned in closer. Their faces were only inches apart as he carefully slide into her velvet glove, going slowly and not looking away from her, trying to prevent overlooking any painful expression. Once he was all the way, she lifted her head up and kissed him, one of her hands gripping his hair and the other digging its fingers into his back.

Slowly he resumed moving, both of them experiencing something new as their bodies entwined for the first time.

* * *

He knew that she wasn't happy with his choice, but it wasn't her decision to make at least not any more. Pablo no longer belonged to her alone. The boy was natural next to him and he finally had a chance to pass down his knowledge to someone. This time it wasn't to impress them or spend time with them, like it had been with Hannah, but it was to actually teach them how to survive on their own in case anything happened. With the world they lived in, the boy might be forced to start fending for himself sooner than a boy should have to.

He took a few steps closer to her, his hand touching her elbow.

"Why do you have to do it now?"

"Ain't gonna be long until Rick 'n them are gonna leave. Ain't no other time to do this."

Hannah sighed, knowing that Daryl was right. From the things that Pablo had heard at the Grimes', they would be leaving within the next few days. It just seemed like such a terrible time to leave, right after they had spent the night _together_. But it wasn't like they were leaving for a long time, or even go far away. The way Daryl had explained it; they were only going to walk out an hour or two. Far enough from Nightingale so that they couldn't run for supplies in need but close enough so that they would be able to make it back.

Pablo did need to learn how to survive out in the wild. He needed to learn the essentials of living on his own, because there was no telling when he would wind up alone. She certainly didn't want him to end up a Walker just because he didn't know the basics of staying alive. Even though the basics wouldn't keep him alive forever, they would be enough to keep him alive for a few days. Hannah didn't like to think of the prospect of the boy having to be out on his own but if he knew basic survival skills, she would feel a lot better.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at Daryl Dixon, _the_ Daryl Dixon who was apologizing for something ridiculously insignificant. "You don't have to be sorry," she said, uncrossing her arms and wriggling her small hand into his large one. "I know you're not really _going_ anywhere," she said, shrugging her shoulders. She quickly stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his cheeks, now unafraid of doing something like that publically.

She smirked when she noticed how he frowned slightly. Guess she was never going to "tame" him fully. Not that she would ever want to either. A tamed Daryl would never really be the same Daryl that she fell in love with anyways.

Fell in love?

When the hell did that happen? She wondered. She tried to pinpoint when those feelings even began but she decided to save it for later. When she wasn't seeing him off for a whole twenty four hours.

Daryl watched as Hannah reached around her neck and began fiddling with the necklace. He no longer resented the thing, knowing what it meant to her. He looked forward to finding her something new, something that he had in fact given her. He wasn't really sure if he'd be able to get her something that she liked, not being a man experienced with jewelry, but he'd try. Hell, he'd even take that bitch, Lori, along with him if he needed to.

"Here, keep it?"

"Whaddya mean, keep it? I ain't wearin' no necklace." Despite his protest, he still accepted the piece of jewelry that she put in his hand.

"You know, to remind you to stay safe," she said with a smile. "For me."

He was about to tell her that he didn't need anyone telling him to be careful, but then it occurred to him that that wasn't what she was doing. If she was telling him that she wanted him to be careful, she would have said so herself. This was something different, something more. He couldn't exactly decipher it, but he had a hunch that she meant something along the lines that she needed him to be safe.

"Ya know it says forever yers, Ray," he pointed out as he held the thing in his hands.

"No it doesn't," she said with a mischievous smile.

He looked down at the pendant, turned it around only to reveal that someone had written over _Ray_ with some black substance. Instead there was a clumsily written _Hannah_.

"When didya do this?" he asked, not remembering having left her side long enough for her to do such a thing. "N how?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets," Hannah teased.

Before Daryl was able to inquire further, a bob of dark hair appeared from inside the house, followed by a tanned body that came out. There was a bag on Pablo's back with all the things that he considered a necessity. Daryl had told him to take whatever he thought he needed. Things he wanted to keep with him forever and things he thought could be useful. The bag was a big heavier than he would have like, but that was the cost of being indecisive.

"When are we going?" he asked, his tone whiny enough to get on Daryl's nerves.

"Now," the redneck announced. He picked up the bags he had placed on the ground and held the crossbow in one of his hands.

"We'll be fine," he promised Hannah as soon as he caught uneasy expression on her face. "Don't worry." He bent down and kissed her lightly, causing Pablo to exclaim _ew_ in digust.

"You better be."

It was an attempt to be threatening but she knew that it was obvious that she was more anxious than intimidating. She quickly bade farewell to Pablo, stressing that he **had** to follow every order Daryl gave him and he was supposed to be careful.

Watching as the two went off, she couldn't ignore the premonition that was in the back of her mind. Somehow things always seemed to get worse before they could continue to be good. She shook it off, convincing herself that she was just being paranoid because a lot of bad things had happened. It wasn't like Murphy's law was a universal truth.

Daryl took on last look at the pendant before pocketing it. The writing on the back of the heart made him smile slightly. He had accomplished what he had been told that Dixons couldn't do: love someone properly. After all, why else would she give him such a ridiculously large promise as the words f_orever yours _entailed?

* * *

**A/N:** So that finally happened. I'm sure we've all been waiting for that. Right? RIGHT? Just kidding. I hope you guys enjoyed! Here's the update for ya'll! To all who review, you all are super swell!


	16. Chapter 16

Daryl wasn't going to sleep, at least not until the boy was up again. Even if he wanted the kid to get used to the wilderness and the unexpected attacks that he would have to face on his own, he wasn't going to risk their lives in such a dumb way. If either of them were going to die, it wasn't going to be because they were out camping and he allowed himself to get some shut eye. It was going to be because they had faced an actual danger, been able to fight back.

Daryl tried to avoid allowing his mind to wander in the direction of Hannah, but his attempt was futile. He knew that if he was going to die now he wanted to do it while trying to save her. Not that she needed his help _anymore_, but that's the kind of thing he was supposed to do when she was his. Protect her from the evils of the world.

Daryl chuckled at the stupidity of those words. Protecting her from the evils of the worlds was a lot of work and as much as he hated to admit it, one person would never be able to protect anyone from all of them. There were always going to be evils that would seep through the barriers, catching the protector off guard. When that realization dawned upon him, Daryl was tempted to wake up the boy and pack down their camp so that they could return to Hannah.

His stomach suddenly twisted and something _felt_ wrong. He shook it off, attempting to convince himself that he was just being dumb. After all, how much bad luck could one person have anyways?

* * *

If anyone asked T-Dog, he wouldn't be able to tell you what woke him up first: the unbearable heat or the agonizing screams coming from what sounded like Maggie. Whichever it was, he woke up sweating heavily in a brightly lit room. Something within him had been wishing that it was just morning, but not even Georgia mornings were this bright. No, he had woken up in a house that had been set ablaze.

"Shit."

That was the first word to exit his mouth. It wasn't hard to guess who was behind the fire. They had expected some form of payback from the group that had tried taking over Nightingale, but somehow T-Dog had always expected them to act like animals and do some sort of direct approach. They didn't seem like the sneaky, cunning type.

He scrambled out of the bed and gathered the few things he had in his room, unable to pick up the book he had been reading since it was currently on fire.

"T-Dog, you alive in there?"

"I'm on my way out!"

How the hell was he going to get out, anyways? The door was out of the question, since that side of the room had flames crawling up the walls and spreading rapidly. He turned towards the window. There was still fire there, but it seemed like a better bet than trying to crawl through the house. He picked up the blanket that he routinely slept with before he ran towards the window.

He wrapped the blanket around his fist, coughing as a result of the smoke. How long had the fire been going on and how the hell did he manage to sleep through it? He punched the window, breaking it with ease. He unwrapped the blanket and attempted to suffocate some of the smoke, resulting in a slight decrease in size of the flames but nothing significant. He could hear Maggie in the background shouting something and Rick calling out for someone.

Probably Lori.

Awkwardly he climbed out of the window and he stumbled on to the ground, stepping down on to his ankle wrong. He didn't have time to worry about his ankle, since the right leg of his pants had caught fire. He began to frantically slam the flames with the blanket which had miraculously survived the whole ordeal.

"Maggie, we can't, it's too dangerous!"

Glenn was struggling to hold Maggie back as she squirmed in his arms, desperately shouting for her father to come out. Hershel's house seemed to be further along in the burning than most of the others. The house was engulfed in flames and Glenn was more than certain that it was only a matter of time before the house would collapse. If he let Maggie go, she would run in to get her father no doubt.

There was no way he was going to lose her now.

A desperate scream of denial escaped Maggie's lips as the house collapsed into the flames, eliminating her hope that her father had survived. Why the hell did he have to be such a heavy sleeper? She remembered being thankful for his sleeping habits as a child, able to sneak around whenever he was sleeping. It had been her, Beth and Shawn, sneaking around and getting sweets after Hershel had prohibited it.

With the collapse of the house, it was just her.

The strong arms around her reminded that she was wrong as they began rubbing her in a soothing motion. After all, she still had Glenn and even though they didn't share the same history, she had someone.

"Maggie!"

Glenn hadn't been expecting to see anyone but he had kept his eyes on the house, his mind fixated on the fact that they had lost at least one other person. But to see the old man staggering from the side of the house, his clothes scorched and his body violently shaking from a fit of coughs was the last thing he had been expecting.

He let the woman of his dreams out of his hands as she turned around. He watched as she ran towards her father and immediately began tending to him at the best of her abilities.

"Everyone out?"

Glenn turned his head to see T-Dog. He smiled in relief, happy that there were more people making it out alive. The smile disappeared as he began searching for the answer to T-Dog's answer. He had seen Rick, Carl and Lori earlier, although now Carl was the only one in sight. Hershel and Maggie were certainly out and now that T-Dog was safe, that left only two people. Carol and Hannah.

"I don't know about Carol and Hannah-" Glenn began, almost stuttering. The way T-Dog had asked made him realized that they should have gotten everyone out as soon as they realized what was going down.

He wasn't going to wait for Glenn to finish his sentence; instead he made a beeline for the house that belonged to the _other_ family of three. There was no question in his mind that someone had already gone to save Carol. After all, their group had always come first, Hannah, her son and Henry had come in second. He wouldn't have to worry about her if Daryl hadn't gone camping with the boy but now there was a limited amount of people willing to risk their lives for the redhead.

"Hannah?" he called out as he approached the house which was in terrible state.

* * *

A sharp pain hit Hannah's shoulder, causing her to wake up. Immediately she realized what was going on, once she felt the heat. Wasting no time, she jumped out of the bed and grabbed her bag which conveniently had most of the things packed into it. She grabbed the rifle that was resting by her bed and picked up the leather bag.

Another small explosion was heard and she saw a bullet casing flying right by her. _So that was what that pain was_. She found herself feeling relieved that Daryl had taken Pablo out. Even if they were now unaware of the situation in Nightingale, at least they weren't getting hit by bullets ricocheting in the fire.

So she hadn't been just paranoid, thinking that things were going to get worse before they got better. Of course, she hadn't been expecting things to get this bad. Waking up to her house on fire, bullets flying all over the place? That seemed a little extreme for bad luck. But then again, was it bad luck? She began musing as she tried to find a way out of the bedroom. She didn't know if it was just her house or the rest of the town, but somehow it occurred to her that it wasn't bad luck. It was revenge that was burning down her home.

"Hannah?!"

Before she was able to answer the call, someone knocked down her door, sparing her the trouble of having to find an exit. T-Dog didn't even bother to begin explaining; instead he grabbed Hannah's arm and pulled her out of the room and straight towards the exit. As they reached the front door, an eerie creek could be heard behind them, prompting both of them to run out of the house and down on to the road.

Not a moment too soon either since the moment their feet hit the pavement, the sound of the house collapsing could be heard.

Hannah looked at T-Dog thankfully, offering him her best smile which he returned. Had he not come at that exact moment to pull her out, chances were that she would have been under a pile of the burning house. The realization that she would have been dead dawned upon her and the smile dropped off of her face. What would have happened then? Would she have become a Walker, stuck under the ruins of the house that she was beginning to think of her home?

Would she have eventually escaped? The thought of someone finding her, killing her to survive made her shudder. She imagined someone, a young woman like herself, looking down at her burnt and mangled body, examining the creature that had once had a name- that had once been human. There would be nothing left to indicate who she had been and the woman would go on with her life, trying to survive.

Pablo and Daryl would be forced to go on too, fighting for their lives amongst Walkers. With time they would be forced to accept that she was no longer among them and someday, Pablo would find someone else to call his mama.

The anxiety caused by nearly losing her life and the fear that both Daryl and Pablo would be forced to live on without her overwhelmed Hannah, causing her to fold together on to the ground in front of T-Dog.

* * *

Daryl watched, proudly, as Pablo took care of the rabbit that they had caught in a simple trap. The boy was a fast learner which Daryl could appreciate. He wasn't like Hannah- he didn't need to see the same thing over and over again. Daryl had only shown him how to empty a rabbit's bladder twice before and now the boy was doing it like a god damn natural. No wonder the boy had managed to stay alive.

Good guidance wasn't enough to keep anyone alive in this world, especially when it came to children. Obedience and being a quick learner, those were the things that were going to get the little ones through the worst parts. By that principle, Rick's son was supposed to be long dead. The boy had a tendency to do whatever he pleased, often disobeying orders given by just about anyone. But he was willing to learn and the brutality that he seemed to be developing was something that was going to get him far.

Pablo certainly wasn't brutal. The boy was calm, collected and even though he would get overly curious at times, he mostly kept to himself. The biggest fault he had was dependency on his _mama_.

"I don't remember how to gut it."

Daryl was forced away from his thoughts as Pablo looked at him slightly confused. Daryl took the carcass and demonstrated once more what the proper way of gutting an animal was like. Pablo marveled at how natural the gutting was to Daryl. It didn't even look like he was putting any effort into remembering how to do things. If he hadn't felt safe before in the care of his mama, he would feel safe now with someone like Daryl to watch out for him and his mama. There was no way that Daryl was going to let anything bad happen to them.

* * *

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for how long it took me to get this chapter up. Since I've been home, I've actually had tons of things to do. That, coupled with writer's block is a pain when trying to update. Also, I'm sorry about the length, but I really wanted to get an update up soon. Thank you to all the people who are still reading. You guys are awesome.


	17. Chapter 17

"Hannah, sweetheart, we have to start moving again."

Maggie's plea didn't seem to affect the redhead, who sat with her arms wrapped around her knees. Traveling had been easier while T-Dog carried the unconscious redhead. She had pegged Hannah to be a strong woman, someone who had gone on long enough surviving on her own to know that they had to keep moving. But as soon as she came to, as soon as she realized that they had left Pablo and Daryl _behind_ she had shut up, sat down and refused to move.

Maggie glanced nervously at Rick, who was looking more aggressive by the minute. No wonder, after all, he had lost his wife in the fire. Maggie had an inkling that he blamed Hannah for the death of Lori. It wasn't the redhead's fault in Maggie's eyes- Rick could have left Nightingale without Hannah and it certainly wasn't Hannah's fault that Lori had decided to run in after Carol in an attempt to save her. But it was easy to blame someone other than Lori for her death and Hannah, being an outsider, was a very obvious choice.

"We are leaving now, with or without you."

Hannah turned her head towards Rick, surprised by the blunt tone in his voice. Why was he mad at her? Was it because he had been talking about leaving, but didn't? Surely it wasn't her fault that he didn't leave; after all, she had told him that they could leave without her and Pablo. She had never asked them to stay longer.

"Daryl and Pablo are going back today, what if-"

"We're not putting our ass on the line to wait for them. What if we weren't the only ones attacked? What if it is too late for them?"

Hannah stood up, slowly, suddenly receiving vigor to get on her feet. She wobbled slightly as she took her first few steps towards Rick but soon enough she had balance once more. Her mouth was stuck in a scowl and the notion that both Daryl and Pablo were _dead_ made her furious. Who the hell did Rick think he was, anyways? What did he know about their chances of survival?

"Are you telling me that Daryl never put his ass on the line to help the group out?" she challenged. Daryl had told her the things he had done for them. He had told her about how he had searched for Sophia, almost getting killed in the process. They weren't just a group; they were a team, a community… a big _family_. At least, from the way Daryl spoke of it. Of course he would never have admitted it straight out but that's the way she understood his words.

"I thought ya'll were all about helping each other out," she said, looking at the group, her words mostly directed at Rick. He was the one that was being unfair, insisting that they just up and leave Daryl and Pablo behind. "That's the way T-Dog took it when he ran into my home and saved me, risking his own life while he was at it," she said, nodding in T-Dog direction. "Wasn't that what Lori was doing too? Putting her ass on the line to save Carol?"

There was a heavy silence that took over once she had pointed out that Lori had done exactly what she was talking about. Helping someone out, regardless of the dangers that were involved, was what they did and it was something that set them apart from other survivors. Hannah had never thought about it, but that was what Pablo's parents had been doing. They were trying to save their boy and their companions, even if they did it in a stupid way. Because that was what being a family was all about, taking risks for each other because you care.

At least, that's what Hannah liked to believe about families. Not that she knew much about being in one that was fully functional. Perhaps it was a pointless fantasy, maybe people weren't as driven to take care of the ones they loved as much as she wanted them to be. It could be that the only people who were as dedicated to keeping a family alive were the kind of people who hadn't always had a family to keep alive. People like her and Daryl.

"What Lori did was stupid," Rick answered bitterly. He knew that Hannah had a point but he didn't agree with it, not after what Lori had done to him and Carl by trying to save Carol. "I'm not gonna do something stupid like getting us killed by going back for Daryl and Pablo. It's not worth the risk."

"Not worth the risk?" Hannah asked with a look of incredulity on her face. "If that was you and Carl out there, Daryl would have gone back for you. He wouldn't insist on marching on. He would want to look for you until he knew what happened," she snapped. "Don't matter if it was worth it. You are his friend and friends don't just leave each other at times like this!"

The rest of the group: Carl, Maggie, Hershel, Glenn and T-Dog, looked away uncomfortably as Hannah made her point. They had marched on, following Rick without questioning him. Their first thought had been to stay alive. They didn't stop and wonder about Daryl or the boy he had taken out camping. Their instinct had helped them ignore friendship in order to feel safer. Hannah, on the other hand, seemed to be eager to return back despite the fact that it was dangerous. Of course, it was _her_ child and her man that were on the line but the argument that she was making was compelling.

"Dad-"

"Carl, you stay out of this."

The boy scowled momentarily, upset that his dad didn't want him to have a say in the matter. He too was upset about his mother's death but that didn't mean that he didn't want to save Daryl or Pablo. His mom had done exactly what good people were supposed to do and up until his father had called her act of valor _stupid_ he had been proud of her and used it to make the pain a little easier to handle.

"No," he said defiantly, causing the group to look at him with curiosity. "She's right dad."

Even though Carl's words lacked an argument, they had more of an effect on Rick than Hannah's words had. Not that it surprised anyone, taking the word of a relative over someone who you didn't know that well wasn't really difficult to understand. Rick kneeled so that he was face-to-face with Carl. He had been so consumed with getting them away, so _consumed_ with keeping Carl alive that he had forgotten to talk to Carl, see how he was doing. The boy had not uttered a single sound that indicated that he was distraught although Rick was more than sure that Lori's death was hitting Carl hard.

"Carl, I know that she's right," Rick said, finally admitting that Hannah's argument was dead-on. He gently placed a hand on Carl's shoulder. "But I can't risk losing you too. None of us can risk losing more than we have. It's too dangerous," he said, hoping that he would be able to convince the boy that he had made the right choice.

Even if Daryl would have come back for him, he liked to think that he would have understood if they decided to go on without him and Carl. They were in a group together because it had been convenient for them in their pursuit to stay alive. If it was dangerous to go back for someone, why would they do it? It wasn't like the kid was alone like Sophia had been. He had Daryl by his side, someone who was more than capable of keeping the two of them alive for a long, long time.

"You know what, Rick," Hannah snarled. "Fuck you, okay? Ya'll can go on without me, but I am going back for them."

She began to storm off, but she stopped once she realized that she wasn't completely sure about what direction they had come from, since she had been unconscious most of the way. She turned around to see the vast majority of the group looking at her with a worried expression. Almost as if he read her mind, T-Dog pointed in the direction they had come from.

They watched as the redhead stormed off once again.

"We can't just let her go out on her own!" Maggie protested in a low voice, her words directed towards Glenn.

"Go with her and you'll end up dead," Rick warned, having heard Maggie's protest. "If you want to stay alive, stay with me."

Maggie looked back to the redhead, watching as she carefully stepped over a body belonging to a Walker. Even though she had faith in Hannah, she couldn't bring herself to go after her. The men who had set the town on fire had been dedicated to killing them since they had gone through the trouble of setting each house ablaze. If they happened to see the group wandering back towards the town, they weren't going to greet them with a smile that much was for sure.

* * *

From the moment Daryl had Nightingale in his line of sight, he could tell that something wasn't right. It wasn't hard to tell either, the wall that had once protected the town wasn't looking as sturdy as usual and the smell of burnt wood was prominent in the air. However, in a futile attempt to not scare the boy, Daryl decided that he wouldn't say anything. It seemed like the wise thing to do, sparing the boy for being frightened about his mama.

Daryl had been expecting to see the group waiting for them when they entered in the town. He was convinced that they would be able to survive the fires. They had survived the rest of the shit they had been through, so how was a fire supposed to kill them? But when they finally got to the entrance of the town they were met with a devastating sight.

"Hannah!"

The tone in which Daryl had cried out was desperate. He left the boy's side as he ran towards the place that had become their home. The house which they had lived in, their _home_, was just a pile of rubble and burnt wood. His first instinct was to try and dig through the rubble, trying to find out whether she was trapped under it but almost as soon as he began to do so he realized that it was fruitless. Even if he was able to spend all day digging through the pile, chances that he would be able to find her if she was under all of it were slim.

_Why do you have to do it now?_

Hannah's word rung in his head, reminding him that she hadn't wanted him to go originally. She had been right; he shouldn't have chosen to go camping that day. Could he have possibly chosen a worse time to leave her alone in their home? He couldn't help but think that if it weren't for Pablo having to learn to survive on his own, he would never have left Hannah at such a time.

He suddenly rediscovered the fact that he wasn't alone, that Pablo was indeed his current companion. He quickly turned around, only to be met with the sight of the boy looking absolutely devastated and from what Daryl could tell, the boy was doing his best to fight back the tears although he wasn't really doing a good job at it. He began to feel sorry for the kid and he took back what he had thought earlier. It wasn't his fault that he didn't grow up hunting and tracking, taking care of himself for the most part.

Pablo was trying real hard to avoid crying. Daryl didn't look like he was crying, so why was he supposed to cry? His mama had promised that she would do her best to stay with him. She wasn't going to leave him, so there was no way she had died in the house- or was there? Pablo's lips began to move repeatedly as he mouthed the words. _She's always coming back._ It wasn't until Daryl had kneeled down so that they were at eye-level that he stopped mouthing the words and as soon as the redneck placed a hand on his shoulder, the tears began flowing from Pablo's eyes.

"_Mama_."

The boy practically jumped on to Daryl and locked his arms around the redneck, becoming the second person to ever force Daryl into a hug. Even if every cell in his body pleaded that he get rid of the other person's embrace, Daryl forced himself to fold his arms around the little boy. The boy shook as his cries became vocal and they slowly evolved into sobs.

If he hadn't been raised to avoid it, Daryl would have joined the little boy in his crying. It was difficult to listen to someone sobbing so desperately and filled with pain without feeling disheartened.

"Shh, now," he said, stroking the boy on the back, hoping that he was doing things right. "'s gonna fine o-kay, ya hear me?" He was lying through his teeth. How were things going to be okay now that their town had been put to ruins and the group, in a best case scenario, split up? Their haven had been taken away from them and now they were back out in the wild, doomed to search for some other place where they could feel… safe.

Pablo pulled out of the hug, sniffed and looked at Daryl, his big brown eyes questioning Daryl. He wanted Daryl to say something along the lines that she wasn't going to leave him in Daryl's care for long, much like he had done when she went missing after she went out hunting. But the longer he waited, the unlikelier it seemed that Daryl was going to say anything.

"If yer mama's alive," Daryl began as he straightened himself out again. "We're gonna go 'n find her."

Even if it wasn't as reassuring as he was hoping for, those words still made Pablo feel better. He nodded, agreeing that it was the best course of action. Suddenly his eyes widened as he saw a terrifying sight behind Daryl. Afraid to say a word, he lifted up his hand and pointed. Daryl turned around and frowned when he was met with the sight of the wall at the other end of the town began to slowly bulge and soon enough there were hands visible.

"Let's go find yer mama," Daryl said, grabbing Pablo by the hand. He realized how lucky they had been. Since there had been a fire in the town, it should have been infested with Walkers a _long_ time ago but for some reason the Walkers hadn't gotten towards the town until now.

Remembering that he had left Merle's motorcycle somewhere a bit further away from the town, Daryl decided that it was going to be their best bet to get away from the Walkers without having to waste bolts on them, although that meant that they were going to have to go through the horde that was threatening to take the wall down. He looked down at Pablo, trying to weigh the risks.

"Run straight, as fast as you can, alright?" he instructed, receiving a prompt nod from Pablo. Even if he would be able to make it on his own, it wasn't worth risking Pablo's life. Merle's motorcycle was going to have to wait.

* * *

She had at least been hoping for one person to follow her, but here she was, hours later and she was on her own. Not that she blamed them; Rick had been their leader far longer than she had been a part of their group. But she couldn't help but feel a bit deserted. As if none of them had ever really cared that much for her. She tried to remind herself that T-Dog had run in to save her and Maggie had tried to get her to leave with them instead of leaving her like Rick had threatened.

She groaned as she sat down so that she could rub her aching feet. She coughed halfheartedly as she took off her shoes. The worst part about being caught off guard with the fire was that she hadn't been able to prepare properly. She had grabbed her rifle, bag and the leather bag she kept the little ammo she had left in. She had luckily allowed a couple of cans to linger in her main bag, giving her something to eat but she knew that if she didn't find Daryl soon, she was going to have to hunt for herself once more.

She couldn't help but wish that Daryl and Pablo were in the town, for one reason or another. If they weren't, well, she was in big trouble at any rate. What if they had decided to go after them and somehow, they didn't run into each other? That would keep her separated from not only the group, but also Pablo and Daryl. She would be forced to roam Georgia on her own until someone else found her. Or, until she would become a victim of the Walkers.

Maybe she was destined to end up like Benjamin Smith had, roaming the woods with the rest of the Walkers.

"Shit!"

Hannah had been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she had somehow failed to notice the sound of a Walker approaching her from behind. It tugged on her hair greedily, obviously eager to consume her. Hannah shrieked as she tried to reach into her bag while trying to free herself of the Walker's grasp.

Feeling its hot breath on her neck, Hannah panicked and pulled out the closest thing in her bag and spun around awkwardly. She glanced at the object and was thankful that the can had been sitting close to the top of the bag. With all the strength she could must, she hit the Walker in the head a few times, almost missing a few times. It took her a few hits but eventually the Walker let go of her head and seemed to retreat momentarily, giving Hannah enough time to empty her bag by turning it around and allowing its contents to fall on to the ground.

It took her only a second to spot the knife sitting on top of Henry's sketchbook but that was a second too long. The Walker had once again caught her hair and this time it pulled a lot fervently than it had last time, jerking Hannah's head back. She stretched her arm a little further, so that it was closer to the knife but it was just out of her reach. Using her peripheral vision, she was able to see the Walker opening it mouth, getting ready to make a nice meal out of her.

She tried to muster all her strength to pull away from the Walker's grip and grab the knife but somehow she wasn't able to. Her mind began to wander as her body began to tense up. She was shit out of luck. Now she really was going to become like Benjamin, leaving Pablo and Daryl behind. God, she should have taken Rick's example and not gone back. Even if it was the right thing to do, going after Pablo and Daryl, what good was she to them as a Walker? She would be useless, not of worth to anyone.

She tried one last time to break free from the Walker's grip and this time she managed to get her hand close enough to the knife so that her fingers wrapped around the blade. She winced in pain but did her best to ignore it as she picked up the knife, put it in her right hand and swung her arm, getting the Walker in the neck. It backed away, obviously startled by the pain. She turned herself around but before she was able to get the Walker with her knife, its head suddenly slid off, as if it had been loose and was waiting for someone to tip it over.

"What the-"

Hannah stopped when she saw two figures, alive, standing behind the Walker. Perhaps her luck hadn't run out after all.

* * *

**A/N:** hmmm, I wonder who those two figures were... Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this update. I'm going to try and actively post once more. I was sort of bummed that no one followed her in search of Daryl and Pablo, but I guess sometimes the instinct to survive is greater.

Thank you guys for being awesome and I hope you enjoyed this update! Thanks to those who comment, it means a lot to me!


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** I want to apologize for not posting an update sooner. My computer broke down, they had to replace the hard drive and such. On top of that, I've been mad busy with University. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me! Here is an update for ya'll!

* * *

"Wait a second, you can't just go there! Don't you see how dangerous it is out here right now? Something's up," the blonde protested as the redhead walked in the direction they had come from. The amount of Walkers had been terrifying and had she been on her own, the blonde wasn't sure if she would have survived as well as she did.

The redhead turned to look at the women who saved her. Her expression was a stubborn one, indicating that she wasn't just going to give up on whatever she was trying to accomplish. Her expression was dead on too- there was no way she was going to leave Daryl and Pablo on their own. What if they were waiting for them to return in Nightingale? She had lost Daryl once and she was not about to lose him again. Losing Pablo was out of the question. That boy went from being a stranger's child to being her _own._

"I don't give a-" the redhead paused before she let a profanity slip out of her mouth. There was no reason to be rude to these women, especially seeing as they had just saved her from becoming Benjamin Smith. "I'm willing to take the risk. I can't just leave them there on their own, not knowing what happened to Nightingale."

"Them?"

"Nightingale?"

Hannah sighed, deciding that sparing a few more minutes to explain to them her situation wouldn't hurt. The chances of her finding Pablo and Daryl are slim to begin with; leaving right away wasn't really going to improve the probability of her finding them. "We had a town," she began, immediately catching the attention of the two women. "Called Nightingale. Pablo- my _son_, chose the name. There were thirteen of us to begin with. Things actually felt normal for a while."

"God, that sounds nice," the blonde commented wistfully. After a moment of imagining what it would be like to live in a place that made things seem normal she thought about the redhead's words. "What happened to Nightingale?"

"We… We were attacked," Hannah explained, her expression souring. "There was another group that wanted Nightingale. They weren't willing to share because they had some history with the rest of the group, the one I haven't started out with. After one failed attack where we were victorious, they went into hiding. But last night-" she paused. "I woke up and our home was on fire. Those bastards had set the town on fire, which is probably what has been attracting all those Walkers."

There was a heavy silence that took over as the two women who had rescued her seem to take in what they had heard. _There_ had been a safe haven out there, one where people lived together. The women took a moment to make up what it must have been like in their minds. The differences didn't really matter- they both imagined a place where they could finally rest and not have to constantly worry about whether they were going to make it through the day.

"My-" What was Daryl classified as? They never talked about it; there never really was a need to. She knew that he was hers and she hoped that he knew that she was his, and his alone. "My boyfriend had taken _our_ son out camping the night they decided to burn down the town. I…" her cheeks turned a scarlet red as she recalled the fact that she had passed out. "Passed out and when I woke up, we were… Somewhere away from Nightingale."

"Where's the rest of your group?"

"They kept going on."

"They left you to fight on your own?!"

"Rick said that if they wanted to stay alive, they had to follow them."

_Rick._ That name seemed to trigger something in the blonde. Her expression seemed to become more alert, indicating that the name was familiar to her. "Rick Grimes?" she inquired eagerly. Once the redhead nodded, the blonde's heart jumped slightly and she seemed excited.

"Wait, are you the one they lost?" Hannah questioned, vaguely recalling a blonde that had been with them up until they left the far. "An… drea?"

"I'm Andrea, yes," she said with a soft smile, relieved that she was close to familiarity, although she obviously hadn't found the group again. This woman had been with them and knowing that at least some of them were alive was a huge relief to her. Somehow she had expected to never see them again, either because of her death or theirs. "This is Michonne," she said, motioning towards her companion.

"Hannah," the redhead replied with a nod. She looked back in the direction she had started traveling towards, obviously wanting to get a move one. "They are somewhere that-a-way," she said, pointing in the direction that she had come from earlier. "I left them a couple of hours ago… I think," she said, forcing an awkward smile. "You should have no problem finding them."

She began trekking through the woods, albeit slowly since she was still a bit shaken from her encounter with the Walker. She didn't mind that the women wouldn't be joining her; after all, they didn't know her at all. There was no bond that was supposed to influence them into following her, especially since her journey was likely going to be dangerous.

Michonne had already begun to travel in the direction the redhead had directed them into. From the moment she had run into Andrea it had been all about getting back to the group. Every step of their journey was filled with the longing that Andrea had to be reunited with her little _family._ Michonne, not having any other real purpose other than surviving had followed in an almost obedient fashion, happy to have a companion that she could actually talk to and get a response from.

"Wait."

She stopped and looked at her companion, slightly puzzled. "I don't care if Rick and the rest of them are a few footsteps away. She's going to us more than the group does."

The excuse that the redhead needed them more than the group was just a guise. The young woman intrigued her and seemed like someone she would be able to be around without having to be subjected to endless gossip and chatter about mundane things. As she marched on she could hear Michonne following her and soon enough they had caught up to the redhead.

"I said they were-"

"Do you think we're just going to let you walk into the death trap on your own?"

Hannah smiled brightly at the blonde's words, thankful that someone was willing to risk their lives for Daryl and Pablo. Her heart ached slightly at the thought that the two people that decided to help her out were two women she had never seen in her life. She tried to conceal her disappointment as she held her head high, her right hand gripping tightly the knife that she hadn't been able to reach earlier.

_Mama's coming, honey._

* * *

The boy didn't say anything, but Pablo was fairly sure that he was on the verge of collapsing. The boy was beginning to limp and he seemed exhausted. Daryl, however, had never felt stronger, more _alive._ He had been going at a fast pace, hardly noticing that the young boy was struggling to keep up. Finally he stopped, convinced that they were relatively safe for the moment.

"Ya 'kay, kid?" he questioned, trying to show the boy compassion.

Pablo had been trying to keep the act up. It was bad enough that he had cried in front of Daryl but complaining had been out of the question. He had tried to play it off as they started walking again but it was difficult to ignore the searing pain in his left foot. Under any other circumstance he would have complained mercilessly but because they were searching for his _mama_ he didn't dare say a word. Once they found his mama, they would be able to rest again. At least that was what he hoped.

"I'm fine," he said, a hint of protestation in his voice.

"Yer not fine."

"Am too."

"Ain't."

"Am!"

Daryl had almost replied again before he realized that he was acting like a child, bickering with an eight year old about his physical condition. It was so easy to get lost in interaction with Pablo, at least that was what Daryl was beginning to discover. The kid had grown on him. At first he had looked at him like some parasite that was getting a hold of him, a side effect from loving Hannah but now he was his _friend_, if kids could befriend adults that is.

He went down on one knee and motioned the boy to come on. After a few moments of the boy staring at him, he began to grow impatient. "Com'on, I ain't gonna wait all damn day fer ya t'get on!"

Pablo obediently climbed on to Daryl's back and when the redneck stood up he let out a sigh of relief. His little feet had been killing him and it didn't help that the sneakers he had been wearing since the beginning of the apocalypse were beginning to wear out and any moistness easily seeped into them.

Daryl carried Pablo in silence, focusing on keeping an eye out for Walkers. They had gotten far enough from Nightingale to be free from the horde that had been forming up around the remains of the town. He grunted, realizing that Merle had successfully fucked everything up for him. Their home was gone, him and Pablo were on their own and he had no idea whether Hannah was dead or alive.

The anger began to seethe within him. Merle was his big brother. He wasn't supposed to _ruin _his life or take the few things he actually gave a shit about away. Even as they were growing up, Merla had still been half decent most of the time and even when he wasn't, he found a guise that made Daryl resent him less. Beating him to make him a _stronger man._ That kind of stuff Daryl tolerated but ever since they got separated in Atlanta, Merle had stopped being the big brother that Daryl had wanted to imitate. He had become the antagonist.

No longer was it him and Merle against the world. No, it was him and his _family_ against Merle. Surviving his brother's cruel actions.

Only about half an hour had passed when Daryl was forced to pull his thoughts away from his brother and his cruelty. It was Pablo's desperate sound that caught Daryl's attention. Before he was able to question the boy what was wrong he saw the boy's small hands pointing at the ground, directing Daryl's attention to something that seemed to be shining in the afternoon sunlight. Immediately his heart was filled with hope. As they came closer to the shining object it became more obvious that it was jewelry of some sort. Daryl's first thought that it was something that she had lost from her collection. After all, it wasn't like anyone else had an abundance of jewelry.

He bent down, allowing Pablo to climb off of his back in the process. He picked up the jewelry and began examining it. I was a bracelet of some sorts. It had some text on it but since Daryl had a difficult time reading small text, he only pretended to read it in an attempt to convince Pablo that he had no problem with it.

Pablo looked at the redneck expectantly, waiting for him to tell him what the necklace said but after a few moments he realized that it wasn't going to happen. He wondered briefly whether the redneck didn't know how to read but he dismissed the thought quickly, instead settling with the explanation that Daryl simply thought that the writing was meaningless.

"I think yer mama's still alive."

That announcement caused Pablo's face to light up with an infectious smile, one that Daryl couldn't help but return. The bracelet was almost a sure sign that Hannah had made it that far out which meant that she hadn't died when the houses were set on fire. At least he so desperately wanted to believe that it was an item out of her collection that he didn't wonder whether it was actually something that she had picked up and not something someone had left.

"Com'on, let's keep goin'," he commanded, motioning the boy to get back on his back. Once Pablo was on he stood up again and began marched on, praying that he was going in the right direction.

* * *

Michonne and Andrea had hung back when Hannah had run towards the town, stabbing the few Walkers that seemed to be present. There was something melancholic about watching as she ran down the streets of the small town, obviously searching for the two people she had hoped to find in the town. Both of her companions had looks of sympathy as they recalled how much it had hurt to lose their loved ones. Realizing that they were one of those… _things._

They must have left. That was the only logical explanation for their absence. She had been _so_ dumb. Of course they wouldn't just sit and wait for her to return. If everyone was gone, Daryl sure as hell would go after them.

"We must have missed them," she said, approaching Andrea and Michonne once more. "They're probably trying to find the group, you know? Of course they wouldn't just stay here… Waiting for someone to return… Right?" With every word, Hannah's tone grew more desperate and it became harder to listen to her. Eventually her words turned into meaningless babble, revealing the emotional turmoil that she was experiencing from losing both Daryl and Pablo.

Michonne opened her mouth, ready to tell the redhead that her family was probably dead. It was the cold reality of living in this world. When people wandered off on their own or weren't capable of fending for themselves, they had a tendency to die. Hannah had been lucky that she and Andrea had been in the area when that Walker was about to have her as a meal. However she was stopped with a glare from Andrea that warned her not to go there.

"You're right, Hannah," Andrea said, in an attempt to be soothing. She had never been good with soothing other people, excluding Amy. Being emotionally close to people was definitely not her forte. But seeing the redhead so distraught, well, she couldn't help but try to calm her down. "If they're half as tough as you are, I'm sure they're alive and looking for you as we speak." She placed her hand on Hannah's shoulder and gently rubbed, soothing the redhead almost immediately.

Hannah nodded, agreeing with Andrea. Of course they were alive; after all, they were talking about Daryl Dixon and he was one, tough-

"Sonofabitch! Lookat what we get here, boys. Looks like Darlene left us a present when he left."

Before Andrea and Hannah were able to draw their guns, they had a dozen men pointing guns at them. Hannah's heart sank: instead of finding Daryl she was greeted with the _very last_ person she wanted to see, the person responsible for most of her misery since the apocalypse began.

* * *

The guilt was consuming T-Dog. She had specifically mentioned him when she talked about them being a family and helping each other out. He had been her example along with Lori and Daryl and yet he had watched as she left like the rest of them did. Rick showed no remorse but it was obvious that everyone else felt bad about allowing her to wander off on her own.

As strong as she had proven herself to be in the past, she had still collapsed after being rescued from the fire and she seemed near catatonic when she awoke later on. She was in no condition to be out on her own, searching for people that might as well be dead. A chill ran down his spine as he imagined the grim scene of her stumbling upon Daryl or Pablo (or worse, both) as Walkers. It would be the final nail in the coffin for her.

They just let her go.

He heard something rustling from afar and by instinct he drew up his gun and pointed it in the direction from whence the sound came. Few seconds later he heard another sound, but this time it sounded like voices. Last time T-Dog checked, Walkers didn't speak beyond the simple moans that escaped their lips constantly. He kept the gun up, just in case his mind was playing tricks on him.

Soon a figure appeared and he could've sworn that the figure was carrying another. That was another thing that Walkers didn't do. T-Dog squinted his eyes in an attempt to see a little better. He was convinced that it was just wishful thinking on his part. After all, it would be ridiculous if they just popped up out of nowhere, especially after the group had been walking for hours on end, resting for a few hours every time they stopped. It had to be Walkers.

But the longer he stared, the closer they came and the clearer they were.

"Daryl? That you?"

He didn't really need to ask the question. It was obvious that the man who now stood a few feet from him was the redneck and on his back was the boy. So she had found them. T-Dog felt relieved as he believed that he had no reason to be guilty anymore although he knew that he was going to have to make it up to the redhead for not joining her in her search for Daryl. He expected to get some shit from Daryl, but instead the redneck was looking rather… cheerful.

"Ya'll been hard to track down. Damn Walkers messin' up yer tracks," Daryl said as he stopped. "We found a bracelet a few hours ago, belonging t'Hannah. Might've gone the wrong way hadn't been for it."

T-Dog's relief disappeared. What did he mean they might've gone the wrong way? Wouldn't Hannah be able to go in the general direction that the group had been traveling in? He tried to smile, attempting to believe that he misunderstood Daryl's words somehow. After all, there was no way that he didn't run into Hannah… Right?

"What the hell happened at Nightingale?" Daryl questioned, holding tightly on to Pablo who was half asleep (if not asleep) on his back. "We got back 'n things were…"

"They set fire to the houses. Most of us got out but some-… Didn't make it. Lori went in to get Carol and… Well, the house collapsed. Most of them weren't designed to withstand fire for long. We think it was Merle and his-"

"'Course t'was them. Ain't anyone else gonna set fire t'Nightingale."

"Rick wanted us to leave right away, in case they came back to finish the job. Hannah passed out, but we carried her with us. When-"

"Passed out? Whad'd'ya mean, passed out?"

"I don't know exactly. After I got her out of the house she seemed to be fine but when it collapsed… Well, she went down with it." T-Dog paused momentarily before looking at Daryl. "She didn't tell you any of this?"

"What the hell d'ya mean didn't she tell me any of this?" Daryl snarled, almost immediately worked up. Seeing T-Dog had put his heart at ease. Up until the moment T-Dog had questioned whether Hannah hadn't told him about the whole ordeal he had been relieved. "Ya better be pullin' m'leg," he warned.

"She's… Not with you two?" T-Dog managed to say.

"She ain't with ya'll?" Daryl inquired aggressively, waking Pablo up. "What the hell d'ya mean she ain't with ya'll?" he shouted when he saw T-Dog look away in shame. He let go of Pablo when the boy began to signal that he wanted to go down. The boy took his place by Daryl's side, staring at T-Dog with his big brown eyes.

"She left to… look for you two."

The shame in T-Dog's voice kept Daryl from giving him a good one on the kisser. It was obvious that he was not completely comfortable with what happened; although that was no real excuse for him letting her wander off to go looking for him and Pablo. "Who went with 'er?" When T-Dog's eyes went from meeting his to his own feet, Daryl became furious.

"Ya'll let her go after us, alone?"

"What the hell is going on here?" As if out of the blue, Rick suddenly appeared by T-Dog's side. His angered expression changed once he saw Daryl. "Well I'll be damned, you're alive!" he said, smiling momentarily, his smile disappearing when he noticed the irate expression on Daryl's face.

"Ya bet yer ass we're alive," Daryl growled. "Rick, what the hell is goin' on 'ere?"

"What do you mean, Daryl? We had to run; they were going to kill us eventually. We couldn't wai-"

"I ain't talkin' 'bout that. I'm talkin' 'bout Hannah. Why the hell did ya'll let her go lookin' fer us on her own?"

Rick's expression turned cold as he contemplated what to say. There was little he could do to alleviate the situation. No matter what he said, Daryl wasn't going to be happy with the answer. In all honesty, he expected to never see any of the three again. Not that he presumed them to be dead, but he figured that they would continue surviving on their own or something. Like he had done with Andrea.

"We couldn't afford the risk of following her. It was too dangerous to go back."

"Damn right it was dangerous t'go back!" Daryl stated. "Ya shouldn't've let her go out on her own."

"We tried to stop her."

"Please, Rick, you didn't try to stop her at all," a female voice piped up from behind Rick. "_We are leaving now, with or without you._ Ain't that what ya said to her? And what was it that you said when she walked away from us? If we want to live, we have to follow you?"

"I was trying to help ya'll out-"

"Helpin' them out? How 'bout helpin' Hannah out? She's alone out there 'cause ya wouldn't try to stop her! I thought you were a good man Rick, always talkin' 'bout helpin' each other out, keepin' close 'cause we're family or some shit," Daryl said, not able to recall whether Rick had actually said something like that. He was just saying what he felt about the group. "But the first chance you get t'throw away one of yers, off she goes. Ain't got a care in the word, d'ya?"

"Calm down Daryl, there's no reason for you to get worked up. I couldn't have stopped her if I wanted to- she was determined to find you two," although Rick was asking Daryl to calm down, he was obviously pissed off. "I wasn't going to risk the rest of the group on a mission that was possibly pointless." Rick turned around and began heading back towards the small camp they had set up. "You're welcome to stay with us if you want."

Daryl watched as Rick sauntered away. This was a man he had trusted to make good decisions. He had been sure that he would take care of Hannah in his place if he needed to.

"For the record, Daryl," Rick said, stopping. "She was never one of ours. Not her, not the old man and not the boy."

* * *

**A/N:** So how did you like it? Oh, there passes quite a bit time between the last part with Hannah and co. and the last bit with Daryl and them. In case that confuses anyone. And man, I don't know why but I'm inclined to make Rick the bad guy. Hope none of you are huge Rick fans. D: But anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And once again, sorry for not updating sooner!


	19. Chapter 19

She was so fucking angry; she wanted to grab the redhead's hair and smash her face into the cold concrete floor that they sat on, the three of them far too exhausted to stand. Where they were, they had no idea. After they managed to tear the katana from her grip (although not without a casualty) they had blindfolded the women, forced them to walk to some god damn pickup truck where they drove them away.

It wasn't until they were thrown into the cold room that their blindfolds were removed. It was dingy and smelled bad and she could have sworn that she smelled feces somewhere in the room. Michonne glanced at the redhead who didn't seem all too distraught about the fact that they were in the company of at least twelve men who seemed like they were ready to murder them- or something worse.

"What is your problem?" Hannah asked, finally looking at the woman who had been glancing her way for the past half hour or so. Originally she had intended to ignore the glances but it was difficult to do with someone constantly looking at you as if you did something to them.

"You're very calm."

Hannah had no idea what intention Michonne had by those words, but she had an underlying feeling that she was being accused of setting them up. The corners of her mouth turned downwards at the thought that Michonne assumed that she was working _with_ Merle. Not that she knew what Merle had put her through, what he had done and tried to do to her, and the rest of Nightingale. She then reminded herself that perhaps it wasn't an attempt to accuse her. Perhaps the woman was merely worried about her being so calm, thinking that she might be in shock, or something. Either way, Hannah didn't enjoy the way she was being looked at.

"Whatever that means," Hannah said, trying to keep her cool. "I assure you that I am on your side_._"

Andrea studied the redhead and now she didn't seem so brave. She had thought that she was keeping calm for their sake, that she was someone who calmed others down when the time needed. When she had been struggling for her life when they found her, she wasn't screaming or crying, wailing for help. She had seemed _so_ composed and well put together. Now Andrea could see the sheer terror in Hannah's eyes and she could have sworn that she could see her hands trembling in fear of what was to come.

She felt a curiosity towards the woman who had managed to worm her way into the group she had belonged to. Not that it was particularly hard to become a part of the group and since most of them had a friendly disposition, someone like Hannah wouldn't have much of a problem getting in. At least that was what she figured, not that she knew Hannah much beyond the few hours that they had spent together as companions.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she was able to the door to their… _cell_, or whatever it was, opened and they were met with the view of Merle and a few of his _thugs._ Immediately the women stood up, assuming defensive position. Merle had a toothy grin on his face and a strange hunger in his eyes, the kind that seemed oddly familiar to Hannah. She shook slightly as she remembered his _touch_ and she tried to counter the bad memory with a memory related to Daryl, but it was futile.

"How're my favorite girls?"

To his words, Michonne simply replied by spitting in his direction. She had never been afraid of any man and she wasn't about to begin fearing any man just because she was locked up. After all, what was the worst that he could do to her that the Walkers couldn't?

"Mm, 'nother feisty one," he said, chuckling slightly before shifting his eyes towards Hannah. "I knew yer feisty," he said, his eyes moving towards Andrea. "I can just tell from the way you behaved back at camp. Ain't gonna take anybody' shit, are ya sweetheart?" he said, a cynoid laugh following his words. It was obvious that he was having fun with the women.

"T'bad I ain't got time fer ya two right now," he said with, acting as if he regretted the fact that he wasn't going to somehow ruin them. He looked at Hannah, his eyes gleaming with arrogance that seemed to tell her that he had _won_, that it was game over for her.

For all she knew, he was right. She was probably far, far away from the group and, if he was alive, Daryl. There was no one going to come to her rescue this time around. Not her redneck knight, no Rick Grimes or T-Dog. She was on her own this time around. She was at Merle's mercy and she had a feeling that he wasn't going to show her any mercy, not after all the trouble she had caused him since their first encounter.

"Why don't ya com'on with yer pal, Merle, sweetcheeks?" he said, beckoning her to approach him with his hand. Hannah stepped back for a moment, obviously reluctant to join Merle but as soon as she saw that his men bracing themselves to do something, she stepped forward, not wanting to cause any more trouble than necessary. She didn't want to be the reason for the other two women getting hurt, if she could avoid them coming to harm she would prefer to do so.

She looked back at Andrea and Michonne, both who seemed to be confused as to why she was being taken out of the room and not them.

Once the door closed, Andrea let out a heavy sigh. She wanted to be relieved that she wasn't the one who had been forced to leave with Merle but the thought that Hannah, who seemed to utterly terrified to her earlier, was the one to go with him didn't make her feel at ease at all. In fact she found herself wishing that it had been her or Michonne, because she was sure that either one of them would be able to stay stronger than the girl.

* * *

She didn't say a word, not wanting to upset him. This resulted in an electric silence that allowed her to hear her own heart beating against her chest. It wasn't beating rhythmically; as she was sure it was supposed to do. The beats were frantic and unpredictable, fast and _hard_. She took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down but with no avail. Her breathing followed suit with her heart and it became heavy and irregular, making it difficult to breathe properly.

"Ya ain't nervous t'be with me, are ya? Com'on sweetcheeks, ya ain't got nuthin' to be afraid of," he said with a wink. The double negative made her think of her smartass reply to Daryl. This time she felt no inclination to point out that he had used it. She knew that she had something to be afraid of and pointing that out to him might just provoke him into actually doing something. If she left it alone-

"I see ya've been turnin' lil'broth'a soft."

Hannah straight at Merle at the mention of Daryl, her brows furrowed. What did he knew of their relationship? Had they been keeping a close watch on the town, close enough to know how close she and Daryl were now? That was one of the many things that she didn't want him knowing. Somehow it felt as if he would somehow try to ruin anything that he would say that he was doing it for Daryl's sake. Just like he had abused him, _for his sake._

Once he realized that she wasn't going to answer him, he held up a sketchbook that she was able to identify immediately as Henry's. She wanted to tell him to get his filthy hand off of the book but she couldn't bring herself to do it out of fear of what he would do to her.

It dawned upon her that he had almost absolute control over her. She was so afraid of this man that she couldn't even bring herself to protest him anymore. He was beginning to remind her a little bit of her father, or at least the feeling that he instilled in her heart. She had thought that she would never feel that way again after she was kicked out of her home on that fateful day. But here she was again, cowering to some _disgusting_ pig who thought he could treat everyone however he wanted.

"Com'on sweetcheeks, talk to yer friend Merle!" he commanded, sounding frustrated with her.

"You _ain't_ my friend," she said, emphasizing the 'ain't' in hopes that he would realize that she was mocking his way of talking.

"That's more like it," he said, winking once more. "I've a sweet deal fer ya, if ya listen to me," he proposed, a grin playing on his face. Hannah knew right away that she wasn't going to like his proposition. The way he said _sweet_ made her thing that he meant the exact opposite. She crossed her arms, waiting for him to elaborate further. Realizing that she wasn't going to ask, Merle was forced to continue:

"It just so happened that we found yer friends," he announced triumphantly. "'N from the looks of it, we didn't kill 'nuff of ya'll when started those damn fires. Me 'n the boys, we ain't the losing types. We fight 'til we win. That's where you come in-"

"Whatever it is, forget it!"

"Hold yer horses, girlie. I'm not done yet. I was goin' t'say, ya gotta lure 'em here so we can take care o'the dirties. 'Course I won't kill my broth'a but everyone else, must go. 'Cept the women, 'cause we need the women," he said, looking at his thugs and laughing.

"And what makes you think that I will lure them, to their deaths?"

"If ya do this, I won't have Tony here," he said, motioning towards a man with what looked like a sniper rifle of some sorts, although Hannah didn't know enough about guns to be able to tell for sure. "Take care of yer boy."

Hannah's hands dropped to her side as her mouth opened wide. She was faced with the choice of either luring the people she viewed as her family into their deaths or sacrificing her own son for the good of the rest of the team.

* * *

"You aren't fooled by her, are you?" Michonne asked, her question almost coming out as a growl. She had believed Hannah for a moment when she said that she was on their side, but the fact that she was the only one out of the three of them to be chosen to follow the men was more than a little suspicious. After all, what were they going to do with her? Michonne was stronger than the weak looking redhead and in her opinion Andrea was definitely the better looking choice.

"Fooled?" Andrea asked, sounding offending by Michonne's suggestion that the redhead was playing tricks on them. "Didn't you see that she was terrified of him?" Michonne shrugged, turning away. She had zero faith in Andrea's words, even though she trusted her companion. She couldn't help but be suspicious of the girl. It all just seemed too convenient.

"I'm just saying. I wouldn't trust her."

* * *

Daryl had told Pablo what happened while they were away, how the bad men had burned their town down and killed some of their family. He wanted to care too, he really wanted to care about the fact that Carol wasn't there to look at him weird or that Carl no longer had his mother. But all he could think about was his _mama_ and what Carl's dad had said to Daryl.

They were never one of theirs.

What did that mean anyways? What were they talking about when they talked about _one of theirs_? To Pablo it hadn't really felt like they were two different groups, not when they were all living together in the same town. It was just like the last group he had been in, the one that had slowly died off, one by one.

He idly fiddled with the pages of his book. He didn't feel like escaping into one of the many worlds that Andersen had created for him. There was no longing for adventure, no patience for reading. He tried not to, but all he could think about was his _mama_, out there on her own. He felt the anger seethe within, directed at Carl's dad. Why would he just let her run out on her own? He knew that this world was dangerous, that she could get hurt.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got at everyone. The others in the group for not following her, Carl for not changing his dad's mind… Daryl for taking him out camping. Had they never gone out together, he would have been with his mama. Even if he was beginning to warm up to Daryl, he still preferred Hannah by a longshot. There was a reason to be angry at everyone, or at least Pablo was able to find one.

In anger he tore out a page, almost immediately regretting his actions. He looked at the page, the expression on his face distraught. Much to his surprise, it seemed that the page contained a single story. _The Little Match-Seller._ He had a vague memory of the story, it was something about a poor girl who was out on her own, trying to sell matches. The ending that he thought he could remember, inspired him to crumple up the page and stuff it into his pocket in an irate manner.

"Hi."

He didn't need to look up to know who stood in front of him. The voice was the only other non-adult voice, and since there were just two children in the area, he could tell right away that Carl was the one approaching him. Even though he didn't need to, he looked up. Carl seemed to be blank or at least automated. He didn't look like he was sad because he lost his mother. Instead, he just looked like he wasn't feeling anything at all.

"Hi."

Pablo tried his best to be cold, to show Carl that he wasn't welcome. But there was a natural friendly disposition within him that made it sound like he was ambivalent to speak to Carl, at best. Obviously his coldness didn't come across well, since Carl plumped down next to the eight-year old. They sat there for a good few minutes, neither of them saying a word, both of them lost in their thoughts.

It had always been Pablo who was the mellower one and Carl was the angry one, it was something that even the boys had figured out on their own.

"Do you hate us too?"

He hadn't known what was coming out of his mouth before he even said the words, but they had come out and Pablo felt a lump in his throat. As much as he wanted to be mad at Carl for being his dad's son, he cared more about whether Carl had ever seen him as _one of theirs._ It didn't matter whether Rick had seem him and his family as a part of their group, Pablo cared more about people like Carl and Daryl. Those were the people he actually cared about.

"No!" Carl protested immediately. "No one hates you!"

"Your dad does," Pablo answered meekly.

Carl thought he understood right away. His dad hadn't fought for Hannah to stay with them. He had allowed her to go out on her own so that her chances of dying outside in the woods were increased greatly. Anyone could logically deduce that he hated her and therefore, it would make sense that he hated Pablo too. Carl scowled, feeling a bit resentful towards his father. He wasn't the same man anymore; Carl felt that he was constantly changing.

He was becoming colder and… stronger. Selfish, even.

No longer was he the benevolent father that Carl had once seen him as. Not that it changed how he felt about him, his father was his dad and there was nothing that was going to change that. Even if he was a jackass to others, Carl was going to follow his dad. That didn't mean that he had to support his decisions though.

"I'm sorry."

Pablo felt a bit better; hearing his friend apologize even though he knew it wasn't his place to do so. He hadn't done anything wrong. On impulse Pablo reached for Carl's hand and grabbed it, holding tightly when the boy tried to pull away.

"I'm sorry, about what happened to your mama."

Carl had to stifle a sob, trying desperately to hide the sadness from his friend. No one had talked about his mom, at least not since Hannah had brought it up when she left them. It was like a taboo subject, like no one wanted to talk about it. Sometimes it felt like they were trying to pretend that it never happened. He had been so angry at them for not saying anything about it. He turned his head slightly so that he could look at Pablo with his peripheral vision.

He was staring straight ahead, but it was obvious that he was thinking about something. Even if he didn't say so, Carl guessed that Pablo was thinking of his own parents, the ones that had died a long, long time ago, before the boys had met. He turned his head away in a feeble attempt to hide the fact that his eyes were beginning to water and the mawkish feelings that were welling up within him.

How his dad could ever dislike Pablo, he'd never understand.

The two boys sat in silence, each of them in their own thoughts, neither of them daring to look at each other in that sentimental moment. Neither of them aware of the man that stood in the bushes, ready to shoot them if he got the signal to do so.

* * *

**A/N:** So I hoped you liked this chapter. I've bee busy this week with midterms and such, hence why I'm posting it almost a week after my last update. I hope that you guys liked it, I certainly enjoyed writing it!


	20. Chapter 20

What was she going to do? She honestly didn't know how she was going to save the group **and** keep Pablo alive. Because she didn't want to hurt them. She didn't want to lead them into their deaths just because she wanted to keep her son alive, but what other option did she have? She had to hope that they would be prepared to fight of Merle and his people. They were smart people, after all, they had survived so long without dying.

"Now go 'n make me proud, sweetcheeks."

She pulled away as he used his only hand to touch her cheek. A sickening grin came across his face, causing her stomach to churn; threatening to spill the small content she had in her stomach to begin with. Yet she managed to hold it down as she walked away from him with the weapon that had been in Michonne's possession before. There had been some confusion as to who owned which weapon when they prepared her to leave and seeing it as an opportunity to make something appear to be _off_, Hannah had snagged it, claiming that it was hers.

"They ain't that-a-way. West, ya dumb broad."

She obediently changed directions at the sound of one of Merle's goons' voice. She wasn't sure how long she was going to have to walk to reach their camp although she had a feeling that it could be a couple of hours, seeing as they had arrived to their destination on _her_ truck. She tightened her grip on the katana in her hand as she tried to walk a little faster. The thought that perhaps Merle was simply toying with her occurred to her and she half expected to come upon the whole group, dead.

* * *

_You just need some time to cool off._

Cool off, that was Rick's solution to their problem. How the hell was he supposed to be able to cool off when the group that he had spent so long feeding… protecting, would just allow the one person he would give his own life to keep alive, wander off on her own? He was beyond disappointed, beyond angry. If it weren't for Pablo reattaching himself to Carl and the fact that every place they left kept on getting more dangerous every time, he would have turned back for her. He wanted to, desperately.

Even though he never allowed himself to think it, deep down he was being honest with himself. He and Pablo had barely escaped the ruins of Nightingale and she, well, she had walked straight back. Maybe his heart knew that this wasn't going to end well, that this was what he deserved after all. There was no way that he would be able to live happily ever after. That wasn't ever in the cards for someone bearing the Dixon name. They weren't meant to be happy and whatever was out there, sure as hell tried to make sure that they would never be happy for long.

He looked up from the squirrel he had been skinning, surveying the area for Walkers. Just like he had done before, he was far out on his own, hunting and clearing his head. He couldn't stand the way everyone looked back at the camp, looking away with shame or trying to look as if they couldn't remember that they had simply allowed their friend to walk out to her death.

What he needed to get away from the most, however, was Rick. That sonofabitch. He had thought that they had an understanding, that out of all the people in the group (besides Hannah), he was the one who understood his character the best. He could easily understand why Rick didn't go back for him, hell, if he was in the same situation he wouldn't have gone back for Rick. But allowing Hannah to go out on her own, knowingly?

Daryl was reminded of the time that Lori had begged him to go for Rick, make sure that he was alright. He had declined and that had resulted in her leaving on her own. Not that it was the same. If he had known that Lori was going to go, he wouldn't have let her go. _Would he_?

He grunted in frustration, turning his attention back towards the squirrel. Who was he kidding? He didn't give a hairy rat's ass about Lori then, although he would perhaps have tried to stop her halfheartedly. He wouldn't have fought to keep her with the group because it wouldn't have been worth it to him.

But Hannah wasn't like Lori, she was better. She was fully capable of dealing on her own and that was a quality that he valued above all else, one that he had felt was worth keeping. After all, someone who knew how to take care of themselves would prove to be far more useful to the group as a whole. At least that was what he liked to tell himself.

He groaned as he questioned his views. Was he just being an ass for thinking that Hannah was superior to Lori? He chuckled wryly as he realized that for the first time in his life he was being influenced by someone other than his brother. Blinded by a woman. He allowed a minuscule smile to form upon his lips as he thought about how absurd that thought would have seemed to him only two years earlier.

Suddenly he found himself vowing to never let anyone cloud his judgment again, if that had already happened. No longer would he allow others to sway his mind or influence his actions. Even if it was someone he loved, like Hannah, he couldn't afford to be making mistakes just because he loved her. If he hadn't let his affection for her take a hold on him, perhaps he would never have been inclined to take Pablo out camping.

He could have prevented a lot of grief.

Leastways, that was what he liked to think.

* * *

God, her feet were killing her. It wasn't so much as bad shoes as it was hurt feet. She couldn't remember receiving any injuries on her feet but it wouldn't have surprised her if Merle had something done to her just for the heck of it. Her nose scrunched up and an irate expression revealed itself on her face. She had never hated anyone as much as she hated Merle. No matter what she did, somebody was going to wind up hurt and she was going to be the bad guy.

The most reasonable option, from an outsider's point of view, would probably be to give up Pablo's life in order to save the rest of the group. Hannah wished that she was selfless enough to give up one person to increase the chances that the others would survive but she was too selfish. Her heart ached at the mere thought of her little Pablo getting shot for the others. If she could have sacrificed herself instead, perhaps she would have been able to do so (although it was still questionable whether she would actually be able to bear the thought of being without Daryl and Pablo.)

No, she was selfish and there was no way that she would have given Pablo instead of the group.

She stopped in order to rub her feet and relieve them slightly from the pain of walking, but before she was able to sit herself down, she noticed something up ahead that caught her attention. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to see clearer. After a few moments she was able to distinguish two figures sitting together and she could immediately tell from the size of the figures that they weren't adults. Her heart leapt with joy as she immediately assumed that it _must_ be Pablo and Carl. After all, what other tiny figures could be alive in Georgia without being Walkers?

The prospect of being able to see Pablo, her _only son_, gave her enough strength to sprint towards him with every ounce of strength that was left in her body. It felt like forever to her. Each step seemed like an eternity and every moment felt like it would be a moment too late. As she drew closer to the boys she was able to distinguish them easily. Her heart leapt with joy and the sour mood that had been consuming her earlier disappeared in a fraction of a second.

She couldn't help but squeal slightly when one of the boys stood up, interpreting it as a greeting.

* * *

They were having one of their pleasant moments. They had done so since Pablo came back with Daryl. They would wander out, just the two of them, and sit together. There wasn't always a need to talk to each other although they did enjoy their conversations. Sometimes Pablo would read him some of the fairy tales from his book. Carl had been convinced that fairy tales were for little kids but as Pablo read more of them for him he began to feel that they weren't _always_ stupid.

Sometimes they had a good message. Sometimes they were scary although most of the times, Carl didn't really know what to make of the stories. But it was nice to spend time with Pablo. It was like he wasn't the only one who wasn't trying to constantly hide something from him or trying to avoid saying the wrong thing. He was quite a bit younger, four years, and even though Carl would never have been seen with such a little kid before the Walkers began appearing, he now enjoyed Pablo's company.

Besides, he knew how to shoot pretty okay since Daryl taught him the basics and he wasn't afraid of fighting for himself.

They had been sitting out together for a good hour or so when he noticed _it_. He couldn't bring himself to say something to Pablo, in fear of instilling fear in his companion's heart without it being a necessity. Yet he could have sworn that there was a dark figure somewhere in the woods, not far from them. It had looked like it would pass them but it had suddenly come to a halt.

Wary, Carl reached for the gun that he had been issued and he held it in his right hand, carefully concealing it from Pablo's view. He looked at his friend, who was absorbed in reading.

"_"How did you find your way hither?" asked he; "how could you come here faster than I have?"_

_"I am a mother," she answered._"

Carl became more aware when he realized that the figure was _running_ towards them in an awkward manner, almost dragging its feet along. He tried to remember if Walkers had run so fast before. His heart began to beat against his chest as the adrenaline began to kick in. The way the feet seemed weak made him _assume_ that it had to be a Walker and if it wasn't, it probably was someone who was becoming one. It had to be.

"_And Death stretched out his hand towards the delicate little flower; but she held her hands tightly round it, and held it fast at same time, with the most anxious care, lest she should touch one_-"

Pablo's reading was interrupted by a loud bang and he looked up, startled, only to see a head adorned with red hairs fall down a few feet away from them. It took a moment for the events to register in his mind. He looked to his side to see Carl standing with his hands on his gun, his arms shaking and a shocked expression on his face. He looked back at the figure that was lying on the ground in front of him and immediately dropped the book.

"No, no, no, no nononono…"

For a moment, Carl thought that he had actually killed a human; after all, he had been aiming for her head. He hadn't seen who it was until his finger was pulling the trigger. He hadn't known! He couldn't have known while she was heading towards them so rushed. He looked at his friend, hoping to see validation that it wasn't his fault. But his friend looked like he was in shock from the event.

It wasn't until they heard a pained sob that they realized that she wasn't dead.

"I'll go get someone, stay with her," Carl commanded, realizing that they had to try and help her fast. He knew that a gunshot could hurt, a lot, and the sooner they could help her, the better. When Pablo nodded in agreement, he ran off in the direction of their makeshift, which was luckily a few minutes away if he would sprint.

Pablo got down on his knees and watched as the redhead turned around, her expression filled with mixed emotions, namely pain and happiness. Even though his mama was hurt, she was there with him and he couldn't help but feel ecstatic. She was there, with them. She had found him again.

* * *

If there was one thing that you learned in an apocalypse like one they had gone through, it was that gunshots were _never_ a good sign. They either meant that there had been a close call or someone was being a jackass. Daryl was willing to bet that it was the latter, although he wasn't going to waste any time thinking about which it was. No, he immediately began making his way to the camp, walking a little faster than he would usually, with his crossbow raised and ready to fire.

The effects of the gunshot were immediately visible. It didn't take long for the Walkers to be attracted to the sound and while he made his way to their camp he had to constantly stop and shoot one of those damn things down. But at least he wasn't causing unwanted noise with a gun like some dumbass had done.

He tried to calm himself down and he desperately tried to keep in mind that it _must have_ been necessary. Nobody was stupid enough to pull a trigger without reason to, hell; even Carl and Pablo knew that pulling the trigger was only to be done when absolutely necessary. Yet as he approached the camp the commotion told him that whoever had pulled the trigger had done a huge mistake.

"Hey! Chinaman!"

It had been a while since he had addressed Glenn by that name, but he knew that it was the most likely to catch the man's attention and he was right. Immediately Glenn seemed to stop in his tracks and he looked at Daryl with an expression of panic. Immediately Daryl knew that he wasn't going to like what he heard, the way that Glenn looked at him as if he would explode told him that much.

"What the hell's goin' on 'ere? Why's ever'one runnin' 'round like they've lost their marbles?" He waited for a moment but after silence from Glenn, Daryl advanced towards Glenn, hoping that his stare would be enough to get the man to cough out what the hell was going on.

"Carl s-s-shot somebody."

Speaking had never been so hard for Glenn. He could usually keep his cool when things went haywire but the last thing he wanted to do was anger Daryl by being the one to deliver the news. He didn't know their extent of his relationship to Hannah but he knew that it was strong. She had gone after him on her own, which translated to him as love and somehow it seemed impossible that this man didn't bear the same affections towards her, even if he wasn't exactly the kind of person who would parade around the fact that he cared deeply for someone. Telling him that she had been shot was not something he wanted to do, especially since he had no idea how bad it was.

The silence from Glenn's end puzzled Daryl at first but soon enough he realized that he wasn't going to tell him because he was afraid of saying it to Daryl. There was only one logical assumption in Daryl's mind and it caused him to immediately seethe with anger. They had shot her! After all she had done for them, she had been shot. He stormed past Glenn and headed towards the concentration of people that had formed near Hershel' tent.

"Anyone care tellin' me what the hell is goin' on 'round here?" he questioned, hoping that their answers wouldn't support his assumptions. He found himself wishing that he was wrong, which wasn't something he was used to doing. He saw a tear stained face appear from the side of the group, belonging to the small boy who was beginning to belong to Daryl and he received confirmation.

"It was an accident."

Of course it was Rick who had to take it upon himself to explain what the hell had happened. If Daryl wasn't so concerned about her condition he would have asked someone else to tell him what happened but he didn't want to wait. He looked Rick dead in the eye, hoping that he wouldn't have to ask the man to explain further.

"She was running towards the boys and Carl said she ran funny, her feet didn't seem right. He did what anyone would have done. He didn't see it was her."

"Funny?" Daryl growled, the anger within him boiling. "Ain't nothin' funny 'bout this Rick!"

"Calm down Daryl, I didn't say it was-"

"The hell you did! Wha'd'ya mean funny?"

"Daryl, calm down."

Seeing the gun belonging to Rick aimed at him caused Daryl to check himself. He knew that he was overreacting, but what else could he do? She had been alive, she had been going back to them and she was shot by a god damn kid. He clenched his fists as he attempted to keep himself in check.

"It's nothing to get worked up over. It was barely a scratch."

Seeing the group disperse, revealing a certain redhead smiling wearily towards him caused Daryl to immediately relax. He sauntered towards her in an attempt to mask the fact that he was ecstatic that she was right there in front of him. However he was met half way with her throwing herself at him, almost immediately flinching in pain. He didn't have to do anything; instead she took the liberty of standing on her toes and placing her lips upon his.

"Barely a scratch, yer all bound up. Scratch my ass," he said as soon as the two parted. He looked at her shoulder which was wrapped up in bandages.

"Trust me; this is not the worst that has happened to me since I last saw you."

He smiled wryly for a moment, before realizing that everyone had stopped their activities to watch them.

"Ain't puttin' on a show fer ya'll," he snarled before grabbing Hannah's hand possessively. "Com'on, we're gonna talk."

* * *

"Did we really have to go so far away?"

"Yeah."

Even though Hannah was happy to see Daryl, she was also terrified that if they wandered off far enough and long enough, Merle would view it as her refusing his offer, putting Pablo's life in immediate danger. She glanced back in the direction of the camp solemnly, worried for Pablo's life. She quickly directed her attention back towards Daryl who was looking at her intently.

"What the hell were ya thinkin', runnin' off on yer own like that?"

"I couldn't just leave you two-"

"That ain't good 'nough. Ya could've gotten yerself killed!" Daryl said, raising his voice considerably.

"Don't shou-"

"I ain't done!"

He took a few steps away from her, studied her figure momentarily before approaching her once more. "I don't care if ya wanted t'save us. Ya don't just go out on yer own, getting' yerself killed."

"I didn't get myself killed!" Hannah protested. Her cheeks were reddening from agitation at Daryl's anger. Didn't he understand that she had to go back for them? That without them, she would be completely alone amongst the others?

"Well ya damn near get yerself killed a while ago, didn't ya?" he said, his voice stilled raised. He watched as she looked away and for a moment he thought he saw fear in her. Although he wasn't sure why she was afraid- whether it was him yelling or almost getting killed, he didn't want to make things worse. He stepped closer to her and place his hand on her cheek.

"We ain't gonna be able t'be happy if ya get yerself killed. Ya know that?"

Hannah looked up, only to be met with Daryl's eyes. They usually possessed a cold quality, even when he was dealing with her, but at that moment she only saw tenderness and she couldn't help but remember Merle's words, about her turning Daryl soft. She had never really thought of her changing him. She had always assumed that he would still be the Daryl that shouted at her for _bein in his way_ when he almost mistook her for an animal.

She forced a smile and nodded. She knew that feeling. There was no way that she could be happy without Pablo or Daryl. That's why she had gone after them on an apparent suicide mission and it was also why she couldn't risk Merle taking Pablo away from her.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, here's an update for you guys! I hope you enjoyed it! I am really liking where this is going, you know, with the whole possible sacrificing the group and such. What do you guys think? :)


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